


By Your Side

by Hot_elf



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Assassin's Creed: Odyssey, Canon Divergence, Consensual Infidelity, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Not Canon Compliant, Odyssey, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-01-04 06:09:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18337742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hot_elf/pseuds/Hot_elf
Summary: It was a mistake to let Brasidas walk away after that fight in Korinthia. But fortunately, Kassandra gets a chance to set things right soon after... Because I refuse to believe that Kassandra would pass up a dish like Brasidas while sleeping with half of Greece.





	1. Chapter 1

She runs into him by accident, in an inn on the coast, on her way back to the Adrestia. When Kassandra comes down for dinner, the common room is noisy and crowded, and he is disguised as a simple traveller, in a plain grey hood. But she'd recognize the line of those shoulders everywhere.

"Brasidas." She keeps her voice low as she bends down to greet him. "It's good to see you."

"Kassandra!" His eyes light up at the sight of her, and he grasps her hand in a firm greeting.

They share a meal and they talk, and it feels natural and right. He tells her about his mission, and she entertains him with amusing anecdotes of her travels, enjoying the sound of his laugh, deep and sonorous. Every now and again, his hand brushes against hers in passing, as he reaches for the wine, or a piece of bread, and every time it happens, his touch sends sparks along her skin, little specks of heat that coalesce in her belly until she can hardly bear it any longer. Does he feel it, too, she wonders, that fire, that irresistible attraction? Catching his gaze, she allows her tongue to dart out to lick a drop of wine from her lips, and he swallows, eyes fixed on her mouth, his left hand clenching into a fist. _Oh yes_. He is just as far gone as she is.

The evening passes quickly, and soon it is time to retire. As she rises to say goodnight, Brasidas places his hand on hers. It's the lightest of touches, gentle and unobtrusive, and when she meets his eyes, his eyebrow rises in a mute question. She nods once, almost imperceptibly, then heads for her room. He knocks on her door only minutes later.

The door falls shut behind him, and it's just the two of them, finally. Kassandra glances at Brasidas and sees his lips curve up in the hint of a smile. There's no need to discuss it. They both know what's going to happen, and it's about time, too! She's wanted him since the very first time she saw him fight.

More than once in the past weeks she's regretted letting him go, back in Korinthia, after they'd defeated the Monger's men together. A pleasant frisson races down her spine at the memory of that fight. The way he fell into step beside her, watching her back… in all her life, it has never felt so right to have another warrior fighting by her side. And what a warrior he is! Kassandra can still see him in her mind's eye, all grace and power and courage. She should have had him right there and then, with the warehouse in flames behind them, their blood still racing from the battle and the blood of their enemies coating their blades. She should never have let him walk away. But she won't make the same mistake twice.

She's waited for this, anticipated this moment in her mind for all those weeks. And yet… There's a moment of awkwardness now that they're alone, and she turns toward the window, trying to give him space.

"Kassandra." His voice is warm and mellow, like honey. "Do you want to talk?"

"No." She shakes her head. "I want you to kiss me. And then I want you out of those clothes."

"Fair enough." It's a real smile now, as he pulls her into his arms.

Lovely arms they are, firm and strong and well-muscled, and there's nothing tentative in the way he holds her close, nothing hesitant in the way he claims her mouth. His lips are soft, though, and his beard tickles her a little. It's a good first kiss, not too greedy, not too sloppy, skilled and decisive, and she wants more. A lot more.

Far too soon, he lets go of her, taking a step backward, and by Zeus, he's gorgeous like this, flushed with desire, breathing hard, yet fully in control. A strong man, a man worthy of her. A man she could see herself falling for, if she's not careful.

"Let me help you with your armour." His fingers brush against the straps of her shoulder guard, and she nods. When it comes off, he places it carefully on the table, and she turns to face him, reaching for the clasp of his cloak. They work in silence, with quick, practised movements, taking turns until they're both naked. Every time his fingertips brush against bare skin, she feels a spark against her skin, and by the time they're finished, she is tense like a bowstring.

Brasidas takes a step back to look her over. "You're a goddess." There's a rough edge to his voice now, and his gaze is like a hot caress on her skin.

Kassandra returns the favour, drinking in the sight of him: a warrior's body, lean and strong, plenty of scars to prove his valour; his wide chest, covered in dark hair; his strong thighs. He's hard, so hard that his cock curves up against his flat stomach, long and thick and perfect, and she moans at the sight of him.

His hands clench into fists. "I want you."

"I can see that." She smiles, as she gestures toward his crotch, but he remains dead serious.

"That," he scoffs, "is just my body clamouring for attention. I want more. I want all of you." He pulls her into a firm embrace, his arms encircling her body, tight like a vise. 

"Brasidas…" There's no way Kassandra can wait any longer. She needs to kiss him again, properly this time, no holding back. When their lips meet, she opens up for him, biting down quickly on his lower lip, daring him to reciprocate.

He growls, deep in his throat, and it's as if a dam has broken. He kisses her back with a ferocious greed that drives her crazy, his tongue exploring her mouth with a thoroughness that leaves her breathless. And just when she thinks it can't get any better, he pulls back a little, catching one of her taut nipples with his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, making her whine with delight.

"More. Harder." She hardly recognizes her own voice, strangled with need.

He willingly obliges, sucking eagerly now, and she feels the pull all the way through her body. His hand is cupping her other breast, clever fingers teasing and pinching her nipple, lighting a fire deep inside her. Threading her fingers through his hair, she yanks his head back. "More. Please."

"Yes. More." He's trembling, too, she realizes. His cock is pressed up against her belly, leaking fluid against it, and for a moment, she fears this is going to be over before it starts, but of course he has more control than that.

Taking two deep breaths, he runs his hands all the way down her bare back, and before she knows it, he's on his knees before her, gripping the back of her thighs tightly as he buries his face between her legs. She cries out at the first firm swipe of his tongue through her folds, because it is so _good_ , and she feels him chuckle against her, but he doesn't stop, not even for a moment. And she's so wet already, she can feel it on her thighs, so wet it's almost embarrassing. A thick finger slides inside her, then another, spreading her, opening her up, and she loses the ability to care, clenching hard around him, because, yes, that's what she wants, what she needs.

"Kassandra." His voice is shaky now. "I swear I'm going to take my time with you later, but now-"

She nods, and that's all the invitation he needs. Smoothly, he surges up again, and there's the wall behind her, and he props her up against it, yanking up her left leg to wrap it around his waist. And with shocking swiftness he's _there_ , hard against her core, that magnificent cock pushing against her slick heat and she can't see an earthly reason to deny him. Taking hold of him, she guides him to the right spot, and he moans at this, his hands gripping her harder.

" _Please_ ," she gasps, and he nods, sheathing himself inside her up to the hilt in one smooth stroke, making her cry out with the sudden sweet shock of it.

He pulls back, and this time he goes slower, more controlled, allowing her to feel him filling her inch by delicious inch. And by the gods, it is every bit as good as she thought it would be. Brasidas makes that noise again, halfway between a growl and a moan, and he buries his face against her shoulder, a shudder running all over his powerful frame as he tries to catch his breath.

The angle isn't quite perfect, and surely, not even he has enough strength to hold her up indefinitely, but they're both so worked up that there's no need for subtleties. One of his hands cups her ass and the other one keeps a firm grip on her hip as he aligns himself carefully, then begins to move. And it's good, so good, and she's wanted this for so long and before she knows what's happening, her climax hits her, and she cries out, almost disappointed because it's over so quickly.

But Brasidas surprises her, biting down hard on his lip and riding it out, and when she expects him to pull back, he shakes his head and just keeps going, harder and faster now. She draws a long, shuddering breath, and then she cries out again, and again, because he simply refuses to let her come down, hitting her in the right spot over and over, keeping her right there on the crest for longer than should be humanly possible. Again and again, pleasure washes over her, again and again she gasps his name until he finally finishes with a last, hard thrust, leaving her sobbing and shaking as he wrings one last orgasm out of her.

She can feel his seed trickling down her thighs as he pulls out of her, but she couldn't care less. Her legs feel wobbly, and she's glad for his steadying hand.

Brasidas looks just as wrecked as she feels, panting hard, his lip bleeding slightly. "Damn it, you-" He closes his eyes, resting his forehead against hers. "You're going to be the death of me."

"Ah, I hope not." Smiling weakly, she allows him to pull her over to the bed, sinking down onto the cool linen sheets with him. "Will you stay for the night?"

"Absolutely." He pulls her closer, pinning her down at his side with one arm. "I'm not letting go of you."

She smiles, even as her eyes fall shut. "I'm not going anywhere. Sleep now." She breathes an affectionate kiss on his bearded cheek. "I need you well rested tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

When Helios' first rays tickle her nose, Kassandra wakes to find Brasidas still at her side. He's awake already, propped up on his elbow next to her, his expression earnest and contemplative as he studies her face.

"Good morning." He gently smooths an errant strand of hair back from her forehead. "Everything all right?"

"More than," she yawns, stretching like a large cat, and enjoying the way his eyes widen at the sight. "Give me a moment."

There's a small washroom right next to her room, thankfully – she has no urge to face anyone but him this morning. With nature's call taken care of, she steps back into the room to find him lying on the bed, naked and relaxed. He looks stunning, as beautiful as one of Phidias's statues, only warm and alive and… curse it, she's already feeling that tingle again. At this rate, they're never going to get out of this room again.

"Now, last night…" She stretches out next to him, running a teasing finger down his hairy chest. "Last night, you promised you were going to take your time with me."

"So I did." His smile is fierce as he leans in to kiss her. "Let me show you what I meant."

And by Zeus, he makes good on his promise, and then some. With infinite patience, he explores every inch of her body, making every nerve in her body come alive with pleasure. His beard tickles her a little, but it's softer than she'd expected, not nearly as scratchy as the stubble a lot of other men sport. She actually likes the beard on him; it makes him look like a real man, a proper warrior. _And where does that thought come from_ , she wonders. Maybe it's a memory of her childhood, a faint echo of Nikolaos's image, though her feelings for Brasidas are anything but filial.

Especially not now that he has her in his arms, and he seems determined to prove that he can be a lot more subtle and patient than last night. He works his way down from her neck, lavishing each breast with attention before moving down to her stomach. He maps every one of her scars with his tongue, traces every muscle with his hands, finds every single weak spot. By the time he parts her legs, she almost can't bear it any more.

"Brasidas, please!" She arches up to meet his mouth, but he pulls back, chuckling softly.

"Ah, but what _exactly_ would you have of me, my goddess?" His hands are on her, thumbs opening her up, pushing her apart, and then she feels his breath ghost against her flesh. "This?" His tongue flutters against her pearl, and it's so good she _whines_. "Or maybe this?" A broad swipe of his tongue this time, and that's even better. Or is it? "Or maybe… you'd prefer this?" Two, three hard thrusts of his tongue inside her make her nearly faint.

"All of it?" There's no way she can possible decide, no way she'll ever allow him to stop. Burying her hands in his hair, she pulls him where she wants him, where she _needs_ him, and he complies with a grin.

He makes her come with his mouth, her thighs clenching so hard around his head that she worries for his safety, and then he uses his fingers on her, those long, skilled fingers, and brings her to her peak again. And through it all he wastes no thought on his own pleasure, though she can feel him against her thighs all the time, hard and wanting.

When he finally allows her to wrap her fingers around his length, he hisses sharply at her touch, closing his eyes in bliss. "Careful." He sounds breathless, his voice thick with desire. "Keep that up and I'm not going to last. You'd better-"

Yes. He's right, and she needs him, now. Kassandra straddles him without hesitation, sinking down onto his hard shaft in one smooth movement. She half expects him to push her on her back, but instead he lies back with a smile on his face.

When he notices her surprise, his smile widens. "I want to see you."

His hands settle on her flanks, his touch light, making it clear he's leaving this up to her. And by Zeus, it's exciting, to have him there at her mercy, all laid out for her pleasure. Kassandra doesn't need to be asked twice. Tightening her inner muscles around him, she begins to move, drawing another groan from his lips. She rides him hard, bearing down upon him as fast as she dares, and he lets her set the pace, only the tautness of his jaw betraying the effort it costs him. And he feels so good inside her, so perfect that it makes her want to cry.

She's close already, when he finally decides to take control, his hands tightening on her flanks, his hips snapping up hard. Kassandra mewls at this new intensity, but it's not quite enough, not after his earlier attentions, so she runs her hands down her own body, between her legs. His eyes widen with delight at the sight, and he nods eagerly as she touches herself. It's the sight of his face more than her frantic fumbling that sends her over the edge. She comes with a high-pitched scream, comes so hard she sees stars, and she barely hears his low, triumphant laugh as he finishes, too. Kassandra collapses on top of him, resting her head against his chest, too happy and sated to move.

When she can think clearly again, she realizes he's still firmly lodged inside her, making no attempt to pull back. A dreamy lassitude settles over her, and she doesn't have it in her to get up, not right now. They remain like this for what seems like forever, without talking, quiet and at peace.

Until she feels his cock stir inside her. "Again?" She raises a surprised eyebrow.

He shrugs, gripping her hips hard and rolling over with her in a perfect, swift motion. "I'm not done with you yet."

One smooth roll of his hips has her moan with sudden, renewed desire. She's still sensitive, but she doesn't want him to stop, so she moves with him, into him. He laughs breathlessly, pushing himself up on those marvellous arms, high above her so he can move freely. And it's such a gorgeous sight, his body moving on top of hers, his gaze never leaving her face as he takes her higher and higher. Kassandra spreads her legs even wider, drawing him in, as deeply as she dares.

He slows down for a heartbeat, but she doesn't want that. She's as strong as he is, and she can take anything he has to offer. Raking her fingernails across his back, she bares her teeth at him. "Harder!"

His eyes grow impossibly dark, and now he's really allowing himself to let go, pounding inside her with relentless force, stripping away every last one of her defences. Every cell in her body is alive with desire, every muscle is straining for completion, and when it finally comes, she screams his name, over and over again.

"Kassandra." The expression in his eyes makes her shiver all over. "You are magnificent. Perfect."

"So are you." She swallows, her throat feeling rough and scratchy. "I…" The words are on her lips, and she almost says them, but it's too early. _Not yet_. But she can see her feelings mirrored in his gaze, and her heart is racing, fluttering like a captured bird. _This is not just a fling._

Brasidas lies back with a sigh, pulling her into his arms. "Come back to Sparta with me."

Against her will, she tenses. "It's not that easy."

He shrugs. "Easy doesn't exist. But we'll find a way." His hand rests on her shoulder, fingers drawing small circles on her skin. Such a simple caress, and yet it feels as if he's marking her, claiming her forever. No other touch will ever be enough.

"I…" Kassandra swallows. "Not yet, Brasidas. There are things I need to do first, things I need to learn, about my family and the Cult. But one day, soon…"

"Promise?" His hand stills. "I'm going to hold you to your oath, Spartan."

He's not joking, and she knows it. "Yes. I promise."

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

The next time they meet, it is on Spartan soil, right outside her old home.

There are people all around them, her mother standing right next to her, and she can't greet Brasidas the way she wants to, slamming him against a wall to kiss him hard. But Kassandra is sure her feelings show in her eyes, and she can read the same in his answering gaze, even as he greets her mother and her with the utmost courtesy.

She forces herself to focus on their conversation, to hide her feelings from her mother, but of course Myrrine's sharp eyes don't miss a thing.

As soon as Brasidas has left, she turns to face her daughter, her lips curved up in the faintest of smiles. "So… Brasidas. You have good taste in men, lamb." Ignoring Kassandra's attempts at protesting, she goes on with a graceful shrug. "He's an honourable man, and a fine warrior. A little old for you, maybe, but-"

Kassandra has heard enough. "Well, you're hardly in a position to lecture me on age differences, _mater_." Pythagoras' ancient face is fresh in her mind.

Myrrine has the grace to blush a little, and – the Gods be thanked – she changes the subject. "So… I hear there is a problem with the _helotes_ that might work to our advantage if we play our cards right."

With a sigh, Kassandra resigns herself to listening. Myrrine was born for this, thriving in the tangled web of politics that she herself finds hard to navigate. But she is willing to learn if that means they can have a home and a family again.

* * *

Later, Brasidas takes her to his house, just her. Kassandra is unsure how he's managed for Myrrine to be busy elsewhere, but she's glad. Much as she's happy to have found her _mater_ again, sometimes she needs a little more space than Myrrine is willing to give her. Years of independence aren't cast aside so lightly.

Besides, she can't wait to be alone with him. Her whole body is craving his touch, and each minute stretches into an eternity. All she can think of is how good his lips will feel on hers, how wonderful it will be to have him in her arms again.

They're nearly there, and the hum of arousal in her stomach has already risen to a low buzz, when a familiar voice makes her stop in her tracks. "Kassandra! You, here?" It's Thaletas, beaming with delight at seeing her, grasping both her hands in a firm grip.

"Thaletas." Brasidas nods at him, looking stern but friendly. "You two have met before?"

"Yes. On Delos." Kassandra looks from one to the other, trying to assess the situation. They know each other, of course they do, but do they realize she's slept with both of them? Instinctively, she lets go of Thaletas' hands and reaches for Brasidas' arm instead, resting her hand on it lightly. "How is Kyra, Thaletas?"

"She's fine, or so they tell me." There's a little tension in Thaletas' tone now, as his eyes flicker toward her hand. "We… we decided it was best to call it quits, a while ago."

"I am very sorry to hear that." She tightens her grip on Brasidas' arm. "I do hope we can meet again and talk more, Thaletas, but right now-"

"You're busy. I can see that." He looks a little hurt, but yes, he's clearly gotten the message. "Brasidas." He nods at the other man.

They part, and Kassandra and Brasidas continue in silence, carefully keeping their distance again. It won't do for them to appear too familiar in public, not yet. But as soon as they are alone, he is on her, kissing her hard, his hands firm and warm on her body, his thigh pushing between hers. She moans into his mouth, melting against him, only too willing to forget about the world.

But when he pauses for breath, there's a tiny frown on his forehead. "You and Thaletas. What was that about?"

Kassandra sighs. "I slept with him on Delos. With him and Kyra, to be precise. His lover."

Brasidas' left eyebrow flies up in surprise, but at the same time, there's a smile tugging at his lips. "Both of them together? Or separately?"

"First just her, but then both together." Kassandra tilts her head questioningly at him. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Your past is your own. I have no claim on it." Brasidas shrugs. "I just never… I guess I didn't realize that you like women, too."

"Oh, but I do." Kassandra laughs softly. "Sometimes I think I prefer them to men. Though, on the other hand…" She runs her hand down his chest, to his flat stomach. "Men have their charms, too."

"Glad to hear it." Brasidas' tone is dry, but he makes no move to stop her, when her hand slides even lower, cupping him through the thin linen of his tunic. "So you and this… Kyra, you said?"

"Yes. She was lovely." Kassandra shivers pleasantly at the memory. "As sweet as honey wine, and as beautiful as Aphrodite herself. We made love on the beach."

"Now that…" Brasidas tenses as she tightens her grip. "That is an enticing image."

Kassandra smiles. "You'd enjoy watching me with another woman?"

"Oh yes. " He's panting now, thrusting slowly into her hand. "I think I'd love that."

"And how about watching me with another man?" She twists her hand ever so slightly on the upstroke and is rewarded with another ragged gasp from him.

"That…" He grasps her wrist tightly and pulls her hand back. "That would depend on who the other man was. Among other things." He breathes a quick kiss on her hand. "Enough now, or this will be over before we start. Bed?"

She nods, but as she follows him upstairs, another thought occurs to her. "What about you? Have you ever been with another man?"

He snorts. "I'm a soldier. What do you think? Sometimes it gets lonely out in the field."

"True." Thoughtfully, she chews on her lip. "So… just a distraction, to keep the loneliness at bay?"

This time, he sighs, but he has his back to her, and she cannot see his face, so she doesn't know if it's from irritation or from wistfulness. "That, and to take your mind off the coming battle. There's always some guy or other who is willing to share a little warmth, even if you're their commander. Maybe especially then."

"I see." There's more she'd like to ask, but now they're at the bedroom door, and Brasidas pulls her into his arms again, driving all thought from her mind. He feels amazing, all taut and eager, and his lips are lighting a fire under her skin.

"What do you want? Tell me?" His voice is hoarse with want already, and he's worshipping her with his gaze, as if she truly was a goddess, and he a mere mortal prostrating himself at her feet. But he's so much more than that, he deserves more, and suddenly, she's struck with the urge to show him.

"I want…" She takes a step back, shrugging off her _chiton_. No armour this time – she's in civilian clothing, to avoid drawing attention to herself. "I want you to get naked. And then I want you to lie down on the bed and let me make you happy."

He looks at her searchingly, even as he reaches for the clasp of his tunic. "Are you sure? I could-"

"Absolutely." Her tone brooks no contradiction. "Lie back and close your eyes."

He does as he's told, and that in itself is a thrill, because she knows he isn't used to taking orders. His bare body is as lovely as she remembers it, his cock hard and proud. With a happy sigh, she bends over him and sucks him right in.

Brasidas cries out, and his eyes fly open again, staring down at her with a fierce hunger that sends a spark of heat between her legs. His hands find her hair, loosening her braid, then undoing it completely. He moans, deep in his throat, at the sight of her kneeling between his legs, her lips wrapped firmly around him, her face framed by soft strands of hair. "I didn't think you could be any more beautiful." His voice is strangled. "But this, this is-"

She sucks harder, and his head drops back on the bed with an audible _thunk_ , just as his hips snap up involuntarily. Fortunately, she has a firm grip on him, or she'd be choking. Pulling back a little, she starts to lick him, more gently now, because she doesn't want this to be over too soon. Brasidas shivers all over, his fist tightening in the sheets as he tries to keep still. And Gods, just the taste of him is enough to drive her wild, the saltiness of his skin, the weight of him on her tongue, the scent of his arousal filling her nostrils. Glancing up, she can see the muscles rippling in his stomach, and it's such a gorgeous sight.

He's propped himself up on his elbows so he can watch, and his eyes are fixed on her face, as if he wants to make sure he won't miss a single moment. Once again, she takes him as deep as she can, then releases him slowly, inch by inch. He doesn't make a sound, but she can feel his thighs tense under her hands. She flicks her tongue against his hot, taut skin, once, twice, and is rewarded with a shudder, and a stifled noise from his throat. Not quite a moan, not yet, but when she drags her tongue slowly all the way up his shaft, he gasps hard, his fingers clenching in her hair. It's delicious, watching his reactions, and she can't remember the last time she's enjoyed this so much.

"Kassandra…" His voice is brittle, shaky with arousal, and his eyes are wide and dark. "You… you need to stop if you want me to last."

She releases him, just for a heartbeat, to smile up at him. "Don't worry. You'll last exactly as long as I want you to."

This time his groan is audible as she wraps her lips around him again. Slowly, she works her hand between his legs to play with his balls, caressing them with featherlight touches. His skin is so soft there, and she can tell he loves her touch, tell it from the tiny sigh that escapes his lips. Brasidas is no noisy lover; he has far too much discipline to let himself go easily, even in the bedroom. It's quite the challenge to overcome his reticence, but she is sure she can do it. She wants to make him moan and cry and beg for more, she wants to see him come utterly undone, no matter what it takes.

Redoubling her efforts, she lets her tongue twirl around the tip of his cock, just the tip, suckling ever so slightly at the same time, and it draws a broken moan from him. Gods, she loves that noise, loves it so much, and instinctively, she sucks harder, takes him in deeper, because she simply can't get enough of him. His eyes are firmly closed now, as if he no longer can bear watching, but she wants him to see, so she reaches up with her other hand to gently cup his cheek. His eyes open and meet hers, and he swallows hard.

She keeps eye contact as she sucks again, never allowing him to break it, and it's a beautiful thing, to see him unravel in response to her caresses. Every tiny flick of her tongue, every scrape of her teeth, is mirrored in his gaze and echoed in his moans and gasps. Because he has finally given up on being quiet now, gasping out pleas for more between moaning her name and calling on the gods for fortitude, growing increasingly incoherent with every trick she plays on him. Kassandra can feel how close he is, so close that she can taste him already, so close that every muscle and sinew in his body is taut to the point of pain. It's a heady, powerful feeling, the knowledge that she has brought him to this point, almost as good as a victory on the battlefield, maybe even better.

It takes just a tiny bit more to push him over the edge, and when he comes, it's the most beautiful thing she's ever seen. That lovely body of his, going taut all over and then relaxing; the way his face contorts with lust; and most of all, his eyes, ye gods, the look in his eyes! She'd have to be a poet to describe it, and even then, she probably couldn't do it justice. His salty taste fills her mouth, and she swallows eagerly, taking care to spill not a single drop, because this is all hers, a justly deserved reward for her efforts.

Brasidas is still looking at her, and he seems unable to let go of her head, his fingers entangled in her hair, their tips stroking her scalp in tiny circles, a caress so simple and yet so gentle it makes her heart ache. His breath is coming in quick gasps, and his thighs are trembling with the force of his orgasm. Kassandra smiles, satisfied. She's rendered him speechless, boneless and shaking, just as she'd planned.

When he has recovered enough to speak, his voice is scratchy and rough. "Kassandra. I think I may have died a little." He chuckles, looking almost embarrassed. "The things you do to me… But what about you?"

"Shhhh." Gently, she strokes his cheek, tracing his scar, almost overcome with affection. "We have plenty of time. And I'm sure you'll pay me back in time."

"I will. Have no fear." There it is again, that fierceness he hides so well in public, where he's all gravitas and calm deliberation. It only comes out in battle, and here, with her. And she loves it, loves the shiver it sends down her spine. She'll definitely have to spar with him, later, when their first hunger is satisfied. She can't wait to feel his strength again.

He takes a few moments to rest, but as soon as he can, he's there, spreading her legs wide, holding her down with his weight as he gets to work. She's wet already, just from giving him pleasure, but he's thorough and patient, and determined to make this just as overwhelming for her as she did for him. By the time he allows her to come, he has two fingers buried deep inside her, hitting the perfect spot with unerring certitude, while his tongue drives her to utter distraction.

When she starts thrashing, he holds her down with one hand, strong fingers encircling her wrists. She could probably break his grip, but not easily, and besides, she doesn't want to. It feels too good, an anchor to ground her among that hot surge of lust that floods her body like an ocean wave, unstoppable and almost unbearably sweet. Over and over, she cries out his name as she pulses on his tongue, and he patiently licks her through every last twitch and shiver. When he finally stops to smile at her, her heart skips a beat.

"Kassandra. I love you." There is no hesitation in his tone, just a quiet certainty.

"Brasidas…" Kassandra swallows. "But how-"

"Shhhh." He lies down at her side, lifting his arm invitingly. "Later. We'll sort it all out."

_Yes. Later._ With a happy sigh, she snuggles into the nook of his arm. Her whole body is still abuzz with pleasure, and Brasidas is warm and solid next to her. Maybe the gods are toying with her, teasing her with the promise of a perfect future. But right now, she doesn't have it in her to care. Right now, life is just as it should be.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

On waking up, her mind immediately goes through her usual routine. An unfamiliar bed, a strange room, two doors – Kassandra's eyes instinctively seek out the exits, to make sure she can get away. The room is sparsely furnished, cool and quiet, lit only by a small oil lamp.  Outside, it is still dark, not morning yet. It takes only a moment for the realization to settle in. She's in Brasidas' house, in his bed, and they have finally made love again.

With a pleased sigh, she lies back, revelling in the memory of his hands on her skin, his lips on hers. She has had many lovers over the years. Some have faded almost completely from her mind, while others have been memorable enough. His touch is different, though, in a way that's hard to describe. He is different.

And here he is, standing in the doorway, stark naked, looking at her with an indulgent smile. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't." She pats the bed in invitation, and he joins her, embracing her tightly before stretching out at her side. "I like your house."

"I don't spend much time here." There's a small frown on his forehead. "It gets lonely. Most of the time I prefer the barracks."

_Of course he does._ It's all too easy to imagine him among his fellow soldiers, sleeping on a reed bed, sharing their simple rations, and sparring with the best of them. A thought occurs to her. "Didn't you ever think of marriage?"

"Oh yes." He smiles, without humour. "I did get married, as soon as I was old enough, to do my duty to Sparta. She was a good wife. We have three sons. A few years ago, she decided she wanted a divorce. She's since remarried."

"And your sons?" Kassandra tries to imagine him as a father, horsing around with a bunch of rowdy boys.

"They're all grown up now." This time, his smile is genuine. "They're proper Spartans. All fine young men, strong and handsome."

"I'm sure they are, considering who fathered them." She allows her eyes to wander all over his body in appreciation.

"You enjoy looking at me." Brasidas sounds amused.

"Who wouldn't?" There's no need to fake the sincere admiration in her tone. "You are a fine sight to behold. Hasn't anyone ever told you?"

He shrugs. "Melippos the sculptor once asked me to be his model. Mind you, that was quite a few years ago."

"Did he now?" Her interest is piqued. "And where can I admire the finished product?" Slowly, she runs her hand down his stomach, tracing the outline of his abs.

"You can't." He hesitates before going on. "When I took off my clothes, he decided my… proportions weren't suitable after all."

"Oh?" She's taken aback for a moment, but then it dawns on her. "Too big?"

Brasidas nods. "He claimed I was 'built like a barbarian'. I think 'vulgar' was another word he used." His tone is light, but she isn't fooled. No man would appreciate such comments about his favourite appendage.

Kassandra snorts. "Well, clearly I have barbaric and vulgar tastes then." Her hand closes around his cock, giving him two firm strokes. He's almost fully hard, and she loves the weight of him in her hand. "Because I definitely haven't got any complaints."

"That's a comforting thought." He moans, but then he takes hold of her wrist. "Maybe we shouldn't. If you want to be home before dawn…"

"Then we'll have to be quick." Already, she can feel her pulse pick up speed, already, she can feel moisture gather between her legs.

"You're impossible." He doesn't resist, though, when she pushes him back and straddles him. Instead, he cups both her breasts in his hands, a look of awe on his face. "And incredibly beautiful. The goddesses on Olympos must be jealous."

She snorts. "I'm hardly Aphrodite."

"True," he concedes, teasing her nipples with the rough pads of his thumbs until they're hard as pebbles and she's moaning unrestrainedly. "Artemis maybe. Or Athena. A warrior queen."

"Stop blaspheming." But she feels warmth bloom inside her as he pulls her into a passionate kiss. It's nice to be worshipped like this, nice to be adored, and she could get used to it.

One of his hands has found its way between her legs, and he's caressing her expertly, one finger sliding deep inside her while his thumb is circling her pearl, with just enough pressure to make her whine with delight. She tightens around him, and he gasps, his cock twitching against her thigh. It would be lovely to play a little longer, but there's no time, and besides, she misses the feel of him inside her already. Pushing herself up with both hands against his chest, she takes hold of him and gently guides him into her body.

And Gods, he feels perfect, as if he was made for her. ‚ _Built like a barbarian'? Really?_ Maybe she should find that wretched sculptor and give him a piece of her mind. But just then Brasidas rolls his hips against her in a sublimely smooth movement, driving all rational thought from her mind. She moans, clinging tightly to his shoulders, and he chuckles softly.

"Good?" His voice is deep and rough with want.

"So good." She catches his lips in a long kiss, smiling when his beard tickles her chin. Yes, it's good to be with him, and it's not just the sex. She feels safe with him, safe and comfortable, and that's a gift she can appreciate.

They stay like this for a few more moments, rocking against each other, close and warm, but soon her impatience wins over. "Harder. More."

He nods and grips her tightly by the hips. "Let me…" It takes a moment of rearranging, but then she's lying flat on her back, and he's on top of her, in charge, and he can give her what she wants.

His first few hard thrusts make her whine with delight, but it's still not enough, so she spreads her legs wider, lifts them higher, almost up to her shoulders, opening herself up for him, because she wants him as deep inside her as he can go. Brasidas groans at this and slows down, perhaps afraid to hurt her. But she doesn't want slow, not now, so she digs her heels into his lower back, _pushing_ him, spurring him on, setting a fast and furious rhythm for both of them. He makes a strangled noise, deep in his throat, and then he lets go.

She knows he won't last long at this rate, but it doesn't matter, because the angle is perfect, and he keeps hitting that spot inside her, hitting it _hard_ , and before she even realises what is happening, she's coming already, sobbing against his throat, pulsing hotly around him. And he's there, too, of course he is, finishing deep inside her with one last, almost desperate thrust.

There's no time for tender words afterwards. She just about makes it home before sunrise, so both she and Myrrine can pretend she's slept at home, as a proper young woman should. Appearances are important here in Sparta, and they have to fit in, if they want a respectable life again.

* * *

Brasidas arrives around noon, surprisingly well rested, and eager to discuss Myrrine's plans for regaining their house and citizenship. Kassandra does her best to follow the intricacies of Spartan politics, but she's bored and tired, and she has trouble focussing.

In fact, she's begun to daydream a little, when her mother's sharp tone tears her out of a particularly pleasant fantasy that involves a naked Brasidas and copious amounts of Acadian honey.

"Kassandra! Did you hear a single word I said?" Myrrine sighs in exasperation. "You need to understand about the _helotes_ , if you want to live here."

"Some other time, _mater_." She just barely resists the urge to roll her eyes. "From what I gather, we have work to do. Just point me where you want me, so I can get it done."

Myrrine opens her mouth, no doubt to deliver another lecture, but Brasidas raises a hand to stop her. "Allow me?" He flashes her an apologetic smile before addressing himself to Kassandra. "The short version then: A traitor called Mantios has gathered followers at Gorani Marble Quarry in Lakonia. If you take them out and destroy their weapons, that should earn you King Archidamos' respect."

"Fine. I'll be on my way." She turns to face Myrrine. "Where will I find you on my return?"

"I will let you know." Myrrine's lips are set in a tight line, and she heads for the door without another word.

Once again, her _mater_ is disappointed, but that can't be helped. Kassandra has spent far too many years doing things her own way, and now she has a hard time pretending to be an obedient daughter.

When they're alone, Brasidas places a careful hand on her wrist. "Let me come to Lakonia with you. I can show you the way, and we'll be stronger together."

"No." She shakes her head. "It's better when I'm on my own. I appreciate your advice, but I have my own methods, and I don't think you'd approve of them."

His face darkens. "A warrior should always fight with honour."

She shrugs. "I'm a _misthios_. We can't always afford to do the honourable thing." And that's an understatement. Brasidas has no idea how many times she's swallowed her pride and run errands or dealt with vermin, just to earn her next meal. He doesn't know about all the secret ambushes and traps she's laid, or about the countless marks she's hunted down for profit, no matter who they were fighting for. Not to mention the occasions when she's found herself on the Athenian side of a battle, simply because their commanders offered a higher reward. "I'm not one of your soldiers, Brasidas. I'm not even a Spartan."

"You can be, once more." His expression becomes even more stubborn. "Isn't this why we're going to all this trouble?"

_Oh dear. This is going to be difficult._ "Look, I…" She bites her lip. "I'm mostly doing this for Myrrine."

"Why?" Stubborn as a mule. She should have known. "You can stay here, too. The kings should be glad to have you."

"I'm not sure I can, Brasidas." Kassandra sighs. "I don't think I'd be happy following orders in the army. Or staying at home raising little soldiers for Sparta."

That last one puts a smile on his lips. "Ah, but if you were to bear my child..."

"Can you even imagine? Me pregnant? The Eagle Bearer raising a baby?" She laughs, but he doesn't join her.

Instead, he embraces her from behind, one hand resting lightly on her stomach. "Of course I can. I can see you, in my mind's eye, heavy with child. Our child. You'd be so beautiful." His voice is so full of passion that she shivers. "No longer Artemis, but Hera, or Demeter. But still a goddess." His hand moves in a gentle caress. "We would take such good care of the baby. Trust me. Trust yourself."

It is enticing, this picture he's painting, of the two of them in happy domesticity. "If you want me to give you a son-"

"I've got enough sons," he scoffs. "A daughter. Fierce and fearless, like her mother. Go on. Close your eyes and imagine."

And she does, and her heart goes so tight she can't breathe. Involuntarily, she shivers, but he's there, holding her close. "Kassandra. I love you."

This time, she almost says it too. And yet, how can she? This whole happily ever after, lovely as it might be, it's for other people, not for the likes of her. Not for the warrior who is busy hunting down the Cult, the _misthios_ who kills for money. Not for the woman who has lost her home and most of her family, and who may yet end up having to kill her own brother. Not for her. Never.

"Look, Brasidas," She bites her lower lip. "You know I care for you. You're one of my most loyal friends and I truly enjoy your company in bed."

"But?" To her relief, he doesn't seem angry, just calm and attentive.

"What you just described… That's not who I am. I'm not cut out to be a wife, or a mother. I'm not even a proper Spartan. I can't give you what you want, not yet. Maybe never." It hurts to say it, but it's better that way. "I'm so sorry."

"Ah." He's quiet for a moment. "Well, then I'll have to be content with what you can give me."

She can't believe her ears. "Really? It's as simple as that?"

"No." He shakes his head. "But I have no right to ask for more. You are special, any fool can see that, a goddess among men. And I'm honoured to be worthy of your attention, even if-" He breaks off, taking a deep breath. "I'll be here, if you ever change your mind and wish to settle down. And Sparta will be here for you, too."

Kassandra raises a hand to his cheek, gently stroking his beard. "Thank you. I mean it."

"I know." Catching her hand, he breathes a kiss on her palm. "You make me very happy." A brief smile plays around his mouth. "I, too, enjoy what we are doing together."

"Glad to hear it." Kassandra reaches for her spear. "I need to be off."

"Take care." His expression turns sober. "I know Mantios, and he's a dangerous man, ruthless and cruel."

"Don't worry." She flashes him an encouraging smile. "I'll be back before you know it."

 


	5. Chapter 5

Taking out the thugs at the quarry is a tedious and time-consuming business, but it's not particularly risky, truth be told. Kassandra watches from her secure perch high up above, as one by one they succumb to her swift arrows. Most of them never even realize she's there before they cough out their last breath. Mantios himself and his bodyguard put up a bit of a fight, but as soon as they set sight on Leonidas, their bravado turns to panic.

No surprise there, Kassandra muses, as she grabs her spear to finish them off. The cute little cub she snatched from his mother's den many months ago has turned into a full-grown lion, sleek and dangerous, with lethal claws and a maw full of razor-sharp teeth. A hunter, a ruthless killing machine, just like his mistress – and suddenly that thought makes her feel sad, in a way it's never done before.

Is Brasidas right, then? Is it a life devoid of honour she's leading, without a home or a country to fight for? Are her methods those of a coward, sneaking through the night, hiding in the shadows? Don't her opponents deserve a fair chance, an open fight, rather than an arrow to the back? But no. She chides herself immediately for the idea. She can't afford such sentimentality, not if she wants to keep surviving.

And yet, the urge remains, to wash their blood off her hands, to cleanse herself of their undignified end. There's no proper bathing spot nearby, so there's nothing for it but to head back, toward the city. She won't make it before nightfall, but she's not afraid of the dark. Tyche smiles on her, though, and as the shadows grow longer and the first scattered farmhouses appear on the horizon, she hears the welcome sound of a little creek burbling along. And suddenly a bath and a proper night's sleep before facing her mother again seem like a splendid idea.

Her armour comes off in a heartbeat, and she steps into the icy cold water without hesitation, gasping in delight as she submerges herself entirely in its blissful embrace. Her skin is tingling all over when she finally comes up for air, splashing and grinning all over like an idiot. _So good!_

Leonidas is lazing in the remaining sunlight next to the creek, licking his massive paws clean with the fastidiousness of a lady's housecat, eyeing her protectively. He won't let any harm come to her, not as long as he has any strength left, and she will gladly take care of him in return. He's proud and he's fierce, a kindred spirit in more ways than one.

She splashes about a little longer, until she begins to feel the evening chill, and then she reluctantly gets out of the water, wrapping herself tightly into her blanket. The lion snorts softly as she approaches him, his expression relaxed and trustful. With a huge yawn he turns over on his back to present his belly for scratching, and she's about to oblige, when a sudden noise makes both of them freeze in motion. The cracking of a twig, followed by a sharp intake of breath...

She swirls around just in time to catch Brasidas' spear in midair, inches from Leonidas' soft, furry belly. " _Malákas_! What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

He flinches at her tone, and his face is deadly pale, his eyes wide with fear. "Kassandra! I thought-" He stares at the lion who is growling now, fixing him with an annoyed glare in return.

Time seems to stop, and Kassandra is unsure what to do next.  But then the absurdity of the situation hits her, and she can't help it. Tossing back her head, she laughs, a genuine, relaxed belly laugh, because they are just too funny, the two of them, trying to outstare each other in their attempt to prove they can protect her. Her reaction makes them both recoil in confusion, and she quickly forces herself to be serious.

"Quiet, Leonidas." Kassandra doesn't even have to raise her voice; the lion trusts her enough to back down immediately. "Brasidas is a friend. He won't hurt me," she adds by way of explanation, and her calm tone has the desired effect. The dangerous predator becomes as tame as a little kitten, curling up under a tree at a little distance from them, resting his head heavily on his front paws.

But when she turns to face Brasidas, there's a dark frown on his face. " _Leonidas?_ " He shakes his head in disbelief. "You named a _lion_ after your _grandfather?_ A mindless beast, and you honour him with the name of Sparta's greatest hero?"

A tiny part of her has to admit that _yes, put like that, he actually does have a point._ Still, Kassandra bites back a giggle at his righteous indignation. "Not all that mindless," she points out. "He's a noble creature, and he's saved my life more than once."

Brasidas raises an eyebrow, but clearly decides this is not worth fighting about. "Did you run into trouble at the quarry, then?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle." She smiles tentatively at him, glad when he returns the smile and pulls her into a quick embrace.

She's still wearing nothing but her blanket, and the firm touch of his hands on her bare skin as he holds her tight makes her hum with pleasure. She tries to catch his lips in a kiss, but he pulls back a little, glancing nervously over her shoulder at the lion. "Seriously, Kassandra, are you sure this is safe?"

"Of course it is." She does her best to sound convincing. "Leonidas would never hurt me, or anyone I care about. Don't worry."

"Easier said than done." Brasidas is clearly aiming for a lighter tone, but his jaw is still tense, his expression still wary. "I can't believe it. How did you even manage to tame a full-grown lion?"

"I didn't." She rolls her eyes at him. "I've had him since he was little. As for how… the Daughters of Artemis taught me how to do it."

Again, his eyebrow flies up. "They aren't exactly known for sharing their secrets." When she doesn't reply, he sighs, scratching his beard thoughtfully. "One day, you'll have to tell me the whole story. But for now…" He points at Leonidas. "How come I've never seen him before?"

Kassandra shrugs. "I don't usually take him with me when I enter a town or a city. People tend to overreact when they see him."

"I can't think why." Brasidas' tone is as dry as old papyrus. "All right. I guess we're actually safer with him nearby, aren't we?"

"Absolutely." She pulls him closer again, allowing the blanket to slide to the floor, and is rewarded with a delicious little groan. "Now kiss me."

This time he complies, and it's so good, exactly what she's been craving, the firmness of his lips against hers, the thoroughness with which he claims her mouth, leaving them both hungry for more, always more.

"So… what are you doing out here?" She reaches for the straps of his breastplate, and he hurries to help her take it off. Another kiss, even more heated than the first, and his bracers and greaves follow suit, tossed to the ground with uncharacteristic carelessness. "I thought we were supposed to meet at my grandfather's tomb. Not that I'm complaining, mind you."

"I couldn't wait for you to be back." His tone is still light, teasing, but there's a current of absolute sincerity underneath. "I've been missing you."

"I've missed you, too." And it's true, she's missed him, missed talking to him, missed his smile, his warm brown eyes, the little scar on his cheek. Missed making love to him, most of all.

And so has he, apparently, because when she embraces him again, more tightly now, without the armour getting in the way, she can feel him against her belly, almost fully hard already. Brasidas closes his eyes, taking a deep, shaky breath, while his fingers make short work of the tie that holds her braid together. He runs his hands through her hair, gently disentangling the strands, and somehow that feels more intimate than any other caress.

"My goddess." He kisses her again. "Let me show you how I've missed you. Let me worship you."

And how could she possibly resist such an offer? The passion in his voice sends a flash of delicious heat to her core, kindling a flame that slowly spreads all through her body, intent on consuming her. There's no need for him to touch her; just listening to him is the sweetest torment ever, and she simply _must_ keep him talking, she _needs_ to hear more.

"How do you want me, then?" She runs a hand up his strong thigh, under his tunic, because she wants to _feel_ his arousal, wants to wrap her fingers around him and make him come undone. "Tell me."

"How?" he growls darkly against her ear. "Any way I can have you." For a moment, he catches her earlobe between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to make her feel it. "Up against that tree, over there, your legs wrapped around my waist. Here on the ground, on your hands and knees. On top of me, riding me like a mule." His hands slide down to cup her ass. "Any way you want. Just-" He moans louder as she tightens her hold on him.

"Yes?" Kassandra can't get enough of the roughness in his voice, the sheer unadulterated _need_ in his words, because, by Aphrodite, she needs him just as much.

"Just you. Come." He steps back just long enough to get rid of his remaining clothes, and then he's back, naked in her arms, naked and eager, and completely focussed on her.

They tumble onto the soft grass together, legs entangling, skin to skin, his mouth hot on her breasts. And Kassandra realizes she doesn't care about the where and how. She just wants him, now. She's trembling with impatience, but he is his usual calm, controlled self, refusing to be rushed as he works his way all over her body. Tongue, teeth, hands, all of them working together to turn her into a gasping, shivering mess, begging for him to _finally_ take her. And then, with one single swift stroke, he's inside her, his body joined to hers as closely as he can be. It almost makes her want to cry, because it feels so _right_. He's here, with her, and everything is right and good. And if this is all they can ever have together, then it's enough, it will have to be enough, because it's already more than she ever thought she'd have.

They make love next to the little creek, its warbling noise mixing with the birds' evening song to drown out the sounds of their sighs and whimpers, the scent of the purple wildflowers filling the air, and the sheer beauty of it all is almost too much. They move as if in a dream, in perfect harmony, until she arches up high under him with a scream of pure pleasure, and he joins her straight away, hiding his face against her throat as he whispers her name.

Neither of them feels the urge to talk afterwards. They cuddle up together under the blanket and fall asleep right where they are, under the stars, with the lion's watchful golden gaze protecting them. Kassandra feels safe and warm and sated, in the arms of her lover, listening to his heartbeat. _Life doesn't get any better than this._

* * *

The next morning, they head for Leonidas's tomb together. Myrrine is waiting for them, smiling triumphantly when she learns of her daughter's success. "Good. Now the kings owe us a favour. They won't refuse to see us anymore."

And just like that, it's back to politics, with no time to linger on the pleasant memories of the night before. Now that they have secured the all-important meeting with the two kings, they need a proper plan, a strategy on how to handle them. With a small sigh, Kassandra resigns herself to the inevitable lectures. Even she can see that she needs to know more about the Spartan rulers before meeting them.

"You need to be very, very careful. Those who cross Pausanias learn to regret it." Brasidas looks worried. Clearly, he doesn't put much trust in her ability to be diplomatic. "And Archidamos… he has a temper, and he can't always control it the way he should. They are both dangerous men, Kassandra. They didn't get to where they are by being nice."

She nods, her expression suitably sober as she listens to Myrrine's exhortations in turn. For once, she will have to be on her best behaviour, as the occasion warrants. _An audience with the two kings of Sparta_. She really has come a long way since Kephallonia.

In the end, the whole thing is far less impressive than she'd expected, and it's over rather quickly. Afterwards, Brasidas gives her a quizzical look. "So…. What did you think about them?"

Kassandra shrugs. "They're just men. Nothing special, much like any other Spartan I've met."

She's a teensy bit disappointed, actually. She hadn't expected the two mighty kings to settle their disputes by fighting, like farmers in a tavern.

"Just men." Brasidas nods. "But those particular men have the power to grant you your citizenship again. Or to refuse it."

"And they may yet decide to do just that. Really, my dear, couldn't you have been a little more diplomatic?" Myrrine shakes her head. "We're lucky the kings were so generous."

"Well, I'm not the one who broke Archidamos' nose!" Kassandra can't believe her ears.

"That was a long time ago." Myrrine wrinkles her nose in disapproval. "They still don't trust us, that much is certain."

"They expect us to prove our loyalty first." Kassandra shrugs. "It's fine. I don't mind doing what they ask of me."

"Those are no small tasks." Brasidas practically growls the words, and she knows he's worried for her. "The fighting in Boeotia is not going well, I hear. And as for the Olympics-"

"I can handle it." She smiles at him to soften the harshness of her words. "I get it, really. It's a clever plan. They want me to prove my worth and serve Sparta's interest at the same time. And if I should happen to die in the process, that would solve the problem just as neatly."

"But you won't." Myrrine's lips are set in a tight line. Clearly, she doesn't like this talk of death.

"I won't," Kassandra agrees. "But I fully expect a trap of some kind. One of them is a traitor, after all, and a member of the Cult."

"I still find that hard to believe." Brasidas frowns. "I've fought at their side. I've never known either of them to be anything but honourable."

Kassandra just barely resists the urge to roll her eyes. Really, sometimes she wonders if Brasidas is simply too good for this world. But then, she wouldn't have him any other way. "I should get back on the road as soon as possible," is all she says aloud. "Will you be all right without me?"

Brasidas' frown deepens. He doesn't like the thought of being apart anymore than she does. His feelings show so clearly on his expressive face that Myrrine allows herself a small, private smile at her daughter. Kassandra smiles back at her. It's good to know that her mother approves of her choice of a lover, at least.

"Don't worry about me, my lamb." The warmth in Myrrine's voice is genuine. "My contacts have provided me with another lead, regarding a Cult member in Arkadia. I will meet you there, once you're done."

"In Arkadia? I can come with you then." Brasidas nods quietly. "I have some business to attend there anyway, and I'll gladly keep you company."

"Then it's settled." Kassandra doesn't bother to hide her relief. It's good to know he'll be keeping an eye on her _mater_. Myrrine can look after herself, but the Cult is ruthless and dangerous, more so than any other opponent she's ever faced.

"See you in Arkadia, daughter. I'll let you know where to find us." Myrrine grasps her hand tightly. "And may the Gods watch over you and keep you safe."

"Let's hope they will." Kassandra straightens her back. "Wish me luck, both of you."


	6. Chapter 6

Boeotia turns out to be even worse than expected – mainly because Stentor is an utter pain, refusing to trust Kassandra or to cooperate with her, sending her on suicide missions instead. He finds, much to his chagrin, that she isn't as easy to kill as he'd hoped for. When he finally challenges her to a duel, it is only for Nikolaos' sake that she refrains from killing the _malákas_ bastard. Still, she has upheld her end of the bargain with the kings. The Athenians are defeated and Archidamos' challenge is taken care of.

The Olympics are her next stop. The whole enterprise quickly turns into a complete farce, and meeting Alkibiades again is pretty much the only thing that makes up for the complete waste of her precious time that King Pausanias has inflicted upon her. Kassandra can't wait to finally get back to what is important – hunting down the Cult, reuniting her family – and she heads for Arkadia without further delay.

The country is beautiful, rich and fertile, a paradise of rolling meadows and thriving farmland. But Kassandra has little opportunity to enjoy it. As a rule, her fellow mercenaries know well enough to leave her alone, but now it seems as if they're all determined to tempt the Fates by attacking her. It's a mystery, until she comes across the explanation, posted on the notice board of a tiny village on the outskirts of Smuggler's Forest. The bounty on her head is large enough to lure even the most level-headed man into risking his life.

By the time Kassandra arrives at the meeting spot where Brasidas and Myrrine are waiting for her, she has had enough, in more ways than one. Since there's no one else around, she slides down from Phobos' back straight into Brasidas' arms – surely Myrrine will forgive her lack of propriety, just this once. Embracing him tightly, Kassandra clings to his strong shoulders, hiding her face against his chest. Only now does she allow herself to acknowledge how much she's missed him.

"Thank Zeus you're here." Myrrine's face is uncharacteristically pale. "We were worried sick about you."

"Yes. Finally." One more deep breath, and she gently pushes Brasidas back. "Your messenger is dead. He was a traitor."

He nods calmly. "The lure of the bounty, in all probability. Where's your lion?"

Kassandra feels her face harden. "He got hurt. One of the mercenaries had a tamed bear." She flinches at the memory of the huge beast pinning down Leonidas like a kitten. "I left him with the Daughters of Artemis, at their camp in the forest. They are going to take care of him until he's fully healed."

"What about you, my lamb?" Myrrine sounds agitated, and Kassandra wonders why she's so upset. It isn't like her _mater_ to fuss so much about her. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Kassandra shrugs. "Bounty hunters are nothing I can't handle. I'd just like to know why the archon is so intent on seeing me dead."

"Lagos is a Cultist." Myrrine's lips are set in a tight line. "He must die."

"Not so fast." Brasidas frowns. " You have no proof. There may be other reasons for his behaviour. And Lagos is an old friend of mine."

"I'm telling you, he's with the Cult." Myrrine is clearly not in the mood for mercy. "Kill him, and there'll be no more bounty. You'll be safe again."

"Sounds like a plan." Kassandra reaches for her spear. "Tell me where to find him."

"Wait, please." Brasidas raises both hands in appeal. "Look, this is not like Lagos at all. The man I know is honourable and generous. He has helped me out more often than I can count. Someone must be manipulating him."

"Yeah. The Cult. That's why we need to kill him." Kassandra feels her patience run out.

"No!" Brasidas takes her hand, imploring her to listen. "Lagos needs to live, for Sparta, if not for me. We need the grain from Arkadia he provides." He sighs deeply. "Please, Kassandra. There has to be a better way. And if someone is using Lagos as their puppet, shouldn't we try and get to them instead of simply killing him off?"

Kassandra lowers her spear. Brasidas' objections sound sensible, she has to admit. "So what do you suggest?"

"Come with me. Lagos has a safe house nearby, a place he uses for his private business." He's holding her hand now, his thumb gently stroking her palm. "We can search it, look for clues. And maybe avoid bloodshed."

"All right." Kassandra secretly agrees with Myrrine, but she knows she owes him that much. "Lead the way."

The safe house isn't far, and Kassandra is tempted to take a little detour, maybe find a quiet spot in the woods. Every cell in her body has been starved for Brasidas' touch, and now that she's back with him again, it's hard to ignore her desire for him. He's fully focused on his goal, though, and it's not until they reach the house that he finally relaxes a little.

Their search yields little in the way of clues, so they decide to lie in wait for a while. Kassandra doesn't mind. The house is pleasant and quiet, and at least they finally have a chance to be by themselves, just the two of them. They find a good hiding spot on the upper floor, near a window with a good view of the surrounding countryside.

"Thanks for coming with me." Brasidas pulls her into a loose embrace. "I really hope we can avoid killing Lagos."

She shrugs. "If it means so much to you."

"It does." His hand tightens on her back. "I've seen enough blood in my life, Kassandra. If there's any hope-"

Brasidas is utterly serious now, and she can't resist teasing him. "You're getting soft, Brasidas."

"Oh really?" Brasidas rises an eyebrow in mock reproach. "And what exactly is it about me that makes you think that?"

Taking hold of her hand, he moves it to his chest, then slowly downward, across the flat expanse of his stomach. Against her will, Kassandra gasps, because he's right. There's nothing soft about him; he's all hard muscle, firm and strong, and he feels _amazing_.

"Well?" There's a tiny, triumphant smile playing around his mouth now, and it makes him look younger, less grave.

Kassandra likes him like this, likes this more playful side to his character, the one that he usually hides from view. But it comes out when he's with her, especially in bed, where he can be quite the tease. Which makes her think of the night they shared before she left for Boeotia, and of the lovely, lovely things he did to her body then. And by Zeus, he looks so good, his skin smooth and slightly tanned, his thighs so strong, his hands-

His low chuckle tears her out of her reverie.

"What?" She raises her chin at him in a clear challenge.

"I know that look." He's grinning unabashedly now. "I know what you want."

"And what if I do?" She's a bit mad at herself actually, for being so transparent. But yes, she wants him. She wants him so much it _hurts_ , and she's sick of waiting.

"We really can't." He's serious again. "What if they show up while we're…"

"Ikaros will keep watch." She shrugs. "We'd have to be quick, of course."

There's no need to say more. Already, he's pulling her into his lap, kissing her hard, hungry, as if he's intent on devouring her. And she kisses him back just as fiercely, because she needs him now, without further delay. It's been far too long, far too many lonely nights, and it doesn't even occur to her that she could have looked for pleasure elsewhere. She wants _him_ , just him, and no dalliance with a stranger could satisfy her need.

There's no time to undress, but they make do, his hands sneaking under her breastplate to pinch her nipples, pushing up the skirt of her armour to find her heat. They've both done this before, made love in a hurry, in the field or on the eve of a battle, they both know how to quench this sudden thirst. Somehow, they manage to wiggle out of their clothes just far enough that they are able to touch, and it's paradise: his cock hard and taut in her hands; his fingers pushing deep inside her. Kassandra _mewls_ with impatience and Brasidas laughs, low and deep in his throat.

He spreads her legs wide, arranging her on his lap just so, and when he lowers her down on his cock, it's all she can do not to beg him to go faster. He feels so wonderful inside her, so right, so perfect. Because this is _Brasidas_ , this is the one she's been craving for all those weeks; and being with him again is almost more than she can bear. Unable to handle the sudden wild surge of emotion, she bites down hard on his shoulder, so hard it's sure to leave a bruise, but he doesn't even flinch.

"Kassandra…" His voice is rough with the same kind of inner turmoil, and he's keeping such a tight grip on her hips that she can feel his fingertips dig deep into her flesh. "Gods, how-" He breaks off, trembling all over.

"Please." Clinging to his shoulders, she rolls her hips, and it's all the encouragement he needs.

His thrusts are quick and urgent, shallow at first, then deeper and deeper as he finds the right angle and braces himself against the wall. Brasidas knows her, knows her body and knows what she likes, and Kassandra feels her arousal build inside her at breakneck speed, an unstoppable force, wild and exhilarating. And yes, fast is good, fast is perfect, because any moment now, Ikaros will show up and they will have to stop and damn it, she will kill anyone who dares to interrupt them now, because she needs it, needs him and-

"Shhh." Brasidas pulls her even closer. "Stop thinking. Just feel."

He claims her mouth in a kiss, a rough, deep kiss, without any pretence at refinement. Kassandra closes her eyes, and for once, she does as she's told and just _feels_ , his length sliding in and out of her body, his tongue entwined with hers, his skin under her fingertips, hot and slightly sweaty. That does the trick. Everything else is forgotten as the roaring wave of pleasure crests and then breaks inside her, washing all over her body, so sweet, so perfect. She's grateful for his mouth on hers, stifling her moans, and at the same time she wishes she could _scream_ , scream out her completion, let everyone know what he's doing to her, tell the world that she's his, and his alone.

Brasidas groans helplessly, his hips jerking hard against her, as he follows her without delay. And that, too, is a good thing, because they barely have time to recover before Ikaros lands heavily on the windowsill, screeching at them with a reproachful look that makes her giggle.

Quickly, they rearrange their clothing and rush to the window. Two men are approaching, from different directions, both of them headed for the house, both of them intent on staying out of sight. It's easy enough to sneak downstairs and listen to their hurried, whispered conversation, easy to follow them to their meeting point at the scorched tree. Unfortunately, a guard spots them, before they can learn more, but the ensuing fight is nothing they can't handle. Truth be told, Kassandra loves every moment of it, loves watching him move, loves the way they immediately fall into a rhythm again, loves this graceful, lethal dance they perform together, in perfect harmony.

With their enemies defeated, they're about to take their leave and return to the safe house for yet another, more thorough search, when a stifled moan alerts them to the presence of a bound and gagged slave girl.

"Thank you, _misthios_. You've saved my life!" The girl – barely more than a child – is out of breath and scared out of her wits, but she's unharmed, and with a little gentle nudging, she's only too ready to provide the information they need.

Once they grasp the full extent of the Cult's manipulations, Kassandra doesn't bother to hide her contempt. " _Malákas_! They've got his family. Yeah, that sounds like the Cult all right."

Brasidas nods, his mouth set in a grim line. "No wonder Lagos is doing their bidding. If I were in his place-" He breaks off, his hands clenching into fists, and despite the seriousness of the situation, Kassandra has to hide a smile. _You wouldn't let anything happen to your wife and children. Never._

"Kassandra." He turns to face her. "Lagos' wife, Philonoe… I know her. She's a strong woman, but if the Cult has her in its grasp, I fear the worst. And his son- he's just a little boy."

There's no need to say more. "I'll find them." The slave girl has given them a fair idea of where to look, and there is no way Kassandra is going to let the Cult get away with this.

"I'll come with you." Brasidas seems determined, but she shakes her head.

"No. I need you to find a safe place where they can stay until we've dealt with Lagos and his little Cult problem." She catches his hand, breathing a kiss on his knuckles. "Please. You know I can handle this."

"I know you do." His eyes wrinkle in a brief smile. "All right. I'm leaving it all to you."

"Thank you." Kassandra straightens her back, her mind already on the impending fight. "I'll send you a message as soon as I can."

* * *

"I still say you should have killed him." Myrrine clearly has a hard time forgiving Lagos. "Once a Cultist, always a Cultist."

"No, _mater_." Kassandra shakes her head, sharing a quick smile with Brasidas. _He_ is happy about how things have turned out, and his happiness, right now, means a lot more to her than her mother's displeasure.

The three of them have met up again in the hills above Fort Samikon, now that the problem has been handled, now that Arkadia is free of the Cult's influence and Lagos is himself again.

"Lagos isn't evil," she adds. "He was just scared and intimidated by the Cult. He won't bother us anymore. Besides, should he be tempted to do so, his wife will make sure he stays on the right path." Oh, but Philonoe had been _furious_ at her husband. Kassandra smiles at the memory of the woman's anger when she'd been freed from the Cult's clutches. _A strong woman indeed_. "I don't think she'll let him forget any time soon that his association with the Cult put her life and his son's in danger."

"You may be right." Brasidas chuckles softly. "At any rate, it's a relief that the bounty has been lifted. That should make your life easier."

"There's more, though." Kassandra rubs her face, suddenly feeling exhausted. "I know which king is the traitor. Lagos was able to give me proof." She hands them the letter the archon has provided.

"Pausanias!" Brasidas exclaims. "I didn't want to believe it, but you were right. Archidamos and the ephors need to be told immediately." He shakes his head. "It won't be easy. Pausanias won't give in without a fight."

Kassandra shrugs. "I'm not afraid." She's fought demi-gods and monsters from the dawn of times. Pausanias may be a king, but he's still mortal.

"Neither am I." Brasidas looks grim, and a tiny bit offended. "Still, there's no time to waste. The sooner you confront him, the better."

Myrrine, too, wants to head back for Sparta as soon as possible, and Kassandra agrees. Much to her surprise, she feels a pang of homesickness at the thought of the old house waiting for them. _Home_. It feels like home. Strange, considering she's spent all her life on the road. But that little house, unimpressive as it might seem to a stranger, is the only place she's ever felt safe.

Brasidas has a few more things to settle in Arkadia and can't join them straight away, but he has time to accompany them for a short stretch of the way. Kassandra notes with approval how good he looks on horseback, his posture proud but relaxed, his hands gentle on the reins. She's going to miss him, but at least this time their separation is going to be short-lived.

"Thank you again for showing mercy to Lagos, Kassandra. I'm more grateful than I can say." Brasidas reins in his horse so they can ride side by side.

She nods. "You've known him for a very long time, haven't you?" She's been doing the maths, considering what Lagos had said when she'd appealed to his better nature. _You sound like Brasidas when he was your age_.

"Decades." Brasidas confirms. "He has always been a good and loyal friend."

Kassandra throws him a quick, side-ways glance from under half-closed lids. "You two must have been very close." She allows just a hint of innuendo to creep into her voice. While Lagos is clearly past his prime, she can easily imagine a younger, more attractive version of him, and considering how eager Brasidas was to save him…

Brasidas' lips twitch a little. "I realize this may be a bit of a disappointment for you, but we've always been just friends. Nothing more."

"A pity." She sighs theatrically. "And here my imagination was running wild already."

"I am so sorry." His tone is dry enough to completely contradict his words. "But, as I said, I'm really grateful. Maybe I can think of a way to make it up to you?"

"I'm sure you can." She flashes him a smile, feeling her heart speed up. "Can't wait to see what you come up with."

"As soon as I'm back in Sparta." He smiles back. "I promise."


	7. Chapter 7

Pausanias' downfall is a lot less spectacular than expected, thanks to the evidence against him that Lagos has provided. Faced with overwhelming proof of his treachery, the ephors don't hesitate to strip him of his powers and send him into exile. Archidamos is true to his word, too, restoring their home and their citizenship to them, assuring them of his eternal gratitude. It's a pleasant surprise, actually. Kassandra has come to expect corruption everywhere, and it's nice to be proven wrong for once.

Still, she knows better than to rely on the law when it comes to the Cult. Pausanias has to die; no mere exile will do for a Cultist of his calibre. Hunting him down takes up more time than Kassandra likes. She's eager to get back to Sparta, eager to see Brasidas again. When Pausanias coughs out his last, laboured breath, it's both a triumph and a relief.

But the real reward is seeing Myrrine take possession of her home again. Kassandra may not see eye to eye with her _mater_ on everything, but it would take a heart made of stone not to be touched by the expression on Myrrine's face as she goes from room to room and picks up familiar objects with a smile that's both hopeful and incredibly sad.

Brasidas shows up the next day, grinning as he pulls her into a bear hug. "You did it. Welcome home, my fellow Spartan."

Kassandra makes a face. "I don't feel much like a proper Spartan yet."

"Ah, don't worry." His hand is warm and sure on her back. "You'll get used to it. Spartan blood is eternal, or so they say."

Myrrine, who's been looking on with an indulgent smile, nods emphatically. "Leonidas himself would be proud of you, my lamb. And now that you've restored our family's reputation by taking care of that traitor Pausanias-"

"Wait a minute." Kassandra can't believe her ears. "You mean to tell me Pausanias was _related_ to us?"

"A distant cousin, no more." Myrrine sniffs disdainfully. "His grandfather was my father's nephew. Still, he was a stain on our family's honour, and it's good that he's gone."

"If you say so." Not for the first time Kassandra marvels at her _mater's_ ruthlessness and thirst for vengeance.

But Myrrine seems unconcerned. "What are your plans, my lamb, now that Brasidas is here?"

Kassandra almost blushes, because there's no way she can tell Myrrine what's _really_ on her mind. More than anything she wants to be alone with Brasidas, to get him out of his clothes and into her bed and then-

"That's part of the reason why I'm here, actually." The look Brasidas gives her is altogether too perceptive. Surely, _he_ knows exactly what she's thinking. "The two of us are invited to dinner at Thaletas' house tonight, Kassandra."

"A dinner party?" She has a hard time hiding her disappointment. The last thing she wants or needs right now is polite conversation. "I've had my share of symposiums, thank you very much."

Brasidas' eyes wrinkle in a smile. "This is Sparta, not Athens. I don't think you need to worry about dressing up and composing witty remarks. Just an evening among friends, nothing more."

"An evening among friends, eh?" That sounds better, at least.

Seeing Thaletas again wouldn't be such a chore, and maybe he'll have news from Kyra. Though the last time she met him, it sounded as if it was well and truly over between them. _Such a pity, too_. Kassandra has exceedingly fond memories of the time the three of them spent together on Mykonos.

"All right." She sighs. "Give me a moment, will you?"

* * *

Thaletas' house is much like Brasidas', clean and spare and pleasant, and the food is good solid fare, nothing fanciful. Despite Brasidas' earlier words, Kassandra is surprised when it turns out it's just the three of them, no other guests. It's a bit awkward at first, being the only woman in the room, with two men that know her intimately. But the wine flows freely, and the two men seem wholly at ease with each other, and as the evening progresses, she relaxes and starts enjoying herself.

"So… how do the two of you know each other so well?" She winks at Brasidas as she nibbles on a ripe grape. "Did Thaletas ever serve under you?"

If the double meaning registers, Brasidas is far too well bred to let it show. With an indulgent smile, he reaches for his goblet. "Yes. Many years ago, Thaletas was assigned to a troop of soldiers under my command. Our mission was to take out a nest of pirates at the seashore."

Thaletas nods. "It was one of my first assignments after I'd finished my training. I was very young."

"You were," Brasidas confirms. "Young and reckless and hot-headed. And also handsome, strong, and well-trained. The perfect image of a Spartan soldier." He takes a deep sip of the wine.

"You think?" Thaletas looks more than just a little flattered. "Ah, but you should have seen Brasidas fight, Kassandra!" His eyes shine, and he's flushed from the wine as he raises his goblet in a salute. "Like Herakles! Those pirates didn't stand a chance, not for a moment. The way he handled his spear… I could have watched him all day long."

"I have seen him in battle." Even just the memory is enough to start a pleasant tingle between her legs. "And I agree it's a lovely sight. But it sounds like you had a bit of hero worship going on back then."

Thaletas snorts. "Yes, I guess you could say that." His eyes meet Brasidas', and they share a quick smile. "He was all I aspired to be. Strong, fierce, determined. I'd have done anything for him."

"And did you?" She allows the tiniest bit of provocation to creep into her tone.

Maybe it's the wine that makes the men so relaxed? But neither of them flinches at her question.

Thaletas slowly puts down his goblet, his eyes never leaving Brasidas' face. "One night, I went into his tent, after dark when everyone was asleep. And I asked him what I could do to make him relax."

Kassandra holds her breath. "And?"

Thaletas smiles, licking his lips. "Well, his exact words were 'Your mouth is irresistible.' And then he asked me if I knew how to use it."

She almost whines at the image his words conjure. A young Thaletas, down on his knees, worshipping Brasidas with his mouth. She can imagine it all too clearly, the look on his face, his stifled moans… But it gets even better.

Brasidas reaches out to cup Thaletas' face. "It's still irresistible. Now I wonder..." His thumb slowly traces Thaletas' pouty lower lip, and the younger man's eyes close in pleasure. "Are you still as skilled as you used to be?"

Kassandra doesn't dare to make a noise, afraid to break the spell.

"Well?" It's a challenge, no doubt about it, and Thaletas is only too eager to take it up.

Before Kassandra can quite process what's happening, he's on his knees before Brasidas, one strong hand on his thigh, lips trembling with anticipation. Brasidas' clothes come off in a heartbeat, and there he is, all laid out, so beautiful, and more than half hard already.

Thaletas smiles, and he licks his lips again, and Brasidas _growls_ , deep in his throat. "Don't toy with me. You know what I want."

There's steel in his voice, and Thaletas responds with commendable swiftness. And the sight of his full lips wrapped around Brasidas' cock, the expression on his face as he hollows his cheeks — Kassandra is certain she won't ever forget it. _So gorgeous._ They make such a pretty tableau, both of them well-built and powerful, both of them exuding strength and confidence, two warriors engaged in a wholly different kind of contest.

When Brasidas makes an impatient noise, Thaletas uses his right hand to help, wrapping it around Brasidas' length, because there's just too much of him to take him all, as Kassandra well knows. And by Zeus, it's amazing to watch and learn, to study Thaletas' technique and make notes of Brasidas' reactions in delicious detail. Kassandra knows from experience that Thaletas is really good with his mouth, and judging from Brasidas' ever increasing moans, his talents aren't limited to pleasuring women.

Just when she thinks it can't get any better, Brasidas raises his head and meets her eyes, and she nearly forgets how to breathe. He _smiles_ , a slow, lazy smile, his grip tightening in Thaletas' thick hair, as he holds the younger man just where he wants him. And he keeps holding her gaze, allowing her to see his arousal grow, higher and higher, no holds barred, no hint of shame in his eyes.

It's the most blatant display of power she's ever seen, and at the same time, it's the most exciting thing imaginable. He's doing this for her, as a special favour, no doubt about it, and yet, he's clearly enjoying himself as well, and that makes it twice as hot. Kassandra is wet just from watching, pulsing with a need that she can't put into words. She wants them both, wants them now, so much that she _aches_ with it, but at the same time she really, really doesn't want them to stop, because it's just too perfect.

At a whispered command from Brasidas, Thaletas redoubles his efforts, sucking him in with a total abandonment that is beautiful to watch, whimpering in ecstasy as Brasidas pulls hard on his hair. It's almost obscene to see the delight he takes in performing this act, and Kassandra can't help but fall in love with him a little bit, just because he's so gorgeous when he lets go. _Irresistible indeed_.

Brasidas' moans get even louder, his whole body taut with pent-up arousal now, his pupils blown wide with lust, and, by the Gods, he's still looking at her, still not breaking the contact, and she begins to think he's going to take her along with him, without even touching her. But no - one more stifled cry, one more helpless thrust of his hips, and he finally has to close his eyes as he's coming, coming for what seems like forever, his fingers digging so deep into Thaletas' shoulder that they're sure to leave a bruise.

Thaletas clearly doesn't mind. His face is a picture of bliss as he swallows eagerly, his eyes half closed and his mouth lingering on Brasidas' softening cock, as if he can't bear the thought of letting go. Brasidas chuckles softly, indulgently, and then, with unexpected swiftness, he pulls Thaletas up into his lap and takes hold of him. It doesn't take much, as worked up as Thaletas is. Just a few smooth, skilled strokes, and he's coming, too, spilling all over Brasidas' strong hands, his whole body trembling with the force of his release.

It's a perfect ending to the scene she's been watching, a thoroughly satisfying climax, and it's beautiful to see them both relax, their powerful bodies going slack as they support each other. But at the same time, it only serves to increase Kassandra's own plight, because by now, she's so aroused that her whole body is buzzing with desire, and even the thin linen of her dress hurts as it brushes against her skin. With an impatient gasp, she pulls it over her head and tosses it away. Her underclothes follow suit and it's such a relief to be naked.

For all their post-orgasmic lassitude, neither of them misses her reaction. They both gasp in unison. Brasidas pulls Thaletas closer, so he can whisper in his ear, but she can hear every word. "Look at her. Isn't she gorgeous?" His voice drops to a deep purr. "You want to taste her, don't you? You want to make her come?"

Thaletas just nods, struck dumb with desire. Brasidas gestures for her to come closer and sit on the table in front of them, and Kassandra complies, moaning when his strong hands part her legs, exposing her to both of them. And Thaletas dives in without a moment's hesitation, his tongue parting her folds and finding her most sensitive places with unerring certainty. It feels good, so good that she can't help crying out, and they both chuckle at this. _Smug bastards_!

She's about to give them a piece of her mind, but just then one of them – _Brasidas? It must be him, because she can feel both Thaletas' hands cupping her ass, holding her in place -_ slides a finger deep inside her and she forgets what she wanted to say, forgets everything as she tightens around him, gripping him with her inner muscles as hard as she can. Brasidas hums appreciatively, curling his finger just so, and Gods, this is even better. Thaletas' tongue is doing the most exquisite things to her, dancing over her oversensitive flesh with the lightest of touches, bringing her ever closer to completion. Within moment, she's ready to beg, reduced to a helpless bundle of sheer need.

The first time she's close, Brasidas stops Thaletas with a hand on his shoulder, and he pauses, waiting patiently until she has recovered a bit. The second time, she nearly tumbles over the edge, but Brasidas still won't allow it, and it's the sweetest torment imaginable. The third time, they push her even closer, so close it _hurts,_ but he still makes Thaletas back down at the last moment, his hand gently massaging her thighs until she relaxes again. And once more, they take her to the limit, and she can feel her orgasm building inside her, feel it gather so much power that she's almost afraid to let go, because surely, this is more than even she can bear? But this time, there's no holding back. Together they work her mercilessly, fingers, lips, tongue, until she simply can't bear it any longer. She comes with a scream, pleasure tearing through her body like lightning, every single cell in her body sizzling with it, and for a brief moment, she actually sees stars.

Thankfully, they leave her plenty of time to recover, holding and kissing her, and by Zeus, it is nice, to have two strong bodies warming her, two sets of hands to caress her. None of them is in the mood for talking any more, so they just stay close together, enjoying each other's warmth.

A little while later, they take their leave, embracing affectionately. Thaletas looks thoroughly satisfied and pleased with himself as he kisses her goodbye and grasps Brasidas' arm in a firm grip. Whatever arrangement those two had worked out in advance, it's clear he's gotten plenty out of it.

Back at Brasidas' place, Kassandra stretches out on the bed with a happy sigh, yawning and stretching. "Ah, that was lovely. I could get used to that, you know."

It's said in jest, but she regrets the words immediately, when she notices Brasidas grow tense. "Hey. I was joking. Look at me." Catching his hand, she cradles it against her cheek. When he reluctantly meets her gaze, she smiles at him. "What is it?"

"Look, I-" Brasidas hesitates, searching for the right word. "Tonight was fine. I told you it would depend on the man in question, and Thaletas… I know him. I trust him, as far as I can ever trust another man where you're concerned." He pauses again.

_And you know he respects you enough to let you call the shots_. Kassandra has to hide a smile. So very much like Brasidas, this whole affair. He's perfectly willing to let her have some fun, as long as he retains a measure of control. And that is fine. "Go on."

"What I'm saying is…" He sighs. "I don't see us doing this on a regular basis, or with anyone else. I told you I'd gladly take what you can give me and not ask for more, but if you want-"

"Brasidas!" She has to interrupt him at this point, because it's good, and she understands. Her proud Spartan general has already left his comfort zone far behind where she's concerned: a clandestine affair with a _mercenary_ , whose allegiance to Sparta is doubtful at best; secret meetings at night; no prospect of a respectable marriage in the future. And now this adventure with Thaletas… None of this comes easily to Brasidas, a man so used to walking the straight and honourable path. Yet, that's just who he is, and she wouldn't want him any other way. "I don't want more. I don't _need_ more." She squeezes his hand tightly. "I had fun tonight, but the last thing I want is having Thaletas in our bed on a regular basis." She makes a face at the mere thought. "Or any other man, for that matter. I… I love you."

"You do?" His whole face lights up at her words.

"I do. In my own way." She's careful to add the qualifier. If he can't help who he is, neither can she. And if he can't accept that-

"Shhh." Brasidas cuts her off before she can elaborate further. "It's all good. I love you so much."

She falls asleep in his arms, listening to his heartbeat, safe and warm and relaxed. He loves her, Kassandra, just the way she is. It's all she's ever wanted.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

For a few precious weeks, everything is exactly as it should be.

Kassandra' days are quiet and peaceful, for the most part spent in Myrrine's company, relearning how to be mother and daughter, how to be a family. The little house holds so many memories for both of them, even if Kassandra's are pale and confused compared to her _mater's_ ; a child's jumbled recollections, bits and pieces that never quite fit together. Sparring with Nikolaos, out in the courtyard, that moment of elation when she finally got it right and earned a rare word of praise from him. Little Alexios, crawling across the room in search of his toys, his tiny face wearing a determined frown. Her mother's lap, warm and safe, the scent of milk and honey clinging to her clothes. Peace and warmth and happiness. For the first time since that fateful day on Mount Taygetos, they are able to reclaim a little of what was lost.

The nights are just as lovely, albeit in a wholly different manner. Brasidas is with her almost every night, up in her room under the rafters. Myrrine turns a blind eye, or rather a deaf ear, to their activities – another thing Kassandra is sincerely grateful for. Brasidas never seems to tire of making love to her, of exploring every single inch of her body with a thoroughness that leaves her entirely breathless. And much to her surprise, Kassandra can't get enough either. It's a new thing for her, this focus on one man, one lover, and surely, she ought to get bored by now? She's never stuck around for more than a night or two, even if she'd enjoyed herself. Not this time, though.

It is new and wonderful, this life of peace, and some part of her knows it can't possibly last. There's still a war going on outside their little peaceful bubble, and the Cult is still there, plotting against them. And yet, for just a little time, she allows herself to put it all aside.

Until the day when Brasidas shows up unexpectedly in the middle of the day, looking grim and determined. "Kassandra. I've come to say goodbye. I need to head for Pylos, as soon as I can."

"Pylos?" She tries to picture a map in her head. "That's in Messenia, right? What's going on there?"

Brasidas nods. "Yes. Far too close to home. The Athenians have been gaining ground lately, and if we lose this battle… I can't allow that to happen."

"Is it really that bad?" Myrrine has joined them, abandoning the half-finished length of brightly coloured cloth on her loom in the corner.

"Worse." Brasidas finally meets her gaze, and Kassandra realizes he's seriously worried. "Maybe you could join us there? We could use your help."

Kassandra frowns. "Why? From what I've seen so far, the Spartans should be able to hold their own against Athens?"

" _We_ certainly can, normally." She doesn't miss the emphasis. Brasidas wants her to embrace her Spartan heritage, knowing full well that it would tie her closer to him. "But…" He trails off, looking uncertain for a moment, and that's not like him at all.

"What is it?" She places a hand on his arm, so warm, so strong, and he gives her a distracted smile.

"Something has come up." He clears his throat. "Or rather someone. There's tales of a soldier no one can resist, not even the most seasoned warrior. A killing machine, the reports say, unbeatable and merciless."

"Deimos." Kassandra has heard enough. "We need to stop him."

"Deimos!" Myrrine's eyes widen. "You mean Alexios. My son. But that is wonderful."

Kassandra secretly begs to differ, but she tells herself that Myrrine doesn't _know_. She hasn't met him, she doesn't realize-

"You will save your brother, won't you, my lamb?" Her mother's face is so full of hope it hurts. "You'll make him see that he needs to leave the Cult, so he can come back and we'll be a family again."

Kassandra sighs. "It won't be easy, _mater_. The Alexios I've seen… " Quickly, she recounts her previous encounters with her long-lost sibling, leaving out the worst bits to spare her mother's feelings. "The Cult… they've manipulated him. He no longer knows right from wrong, and he is-" She casts about for the right word. _Unstable_ , she wants to say, but if she's honest that doesn't even come close to what she saw back in Delphi: that flash of madness in his eyes; his casual brutality; the twisted cruelty marring his handsome features.

And then, the next time they'd met, his grandiose declarations: _I have the blood of gods!_ Kassandra snorts. "He thinks he's a demigod. And he didn't want to be reminded of our existence. We're strangers to him." _He didn't even want me to touch him._ She shudders at the memory – Alexios flinching away from her embrace, his face a mask of disgust.

"You've got to understand, _mater_! The Cult-" That's the hardest part, but Myrrine needs to know. "They told him you abandoned him, that you made no effort to find him."

"Filthy liars!" Myrrine's expression darkens. "As if I'd ever have given up on my baby. But still…" She's smiling again as a thought strikes her. "But he still cares, deep down inside. That's why he didn't betray you to the Cult. He could have done so, he could have exposed you as a traitor. But he didn't."

"Only because he was curious." Kassandra shakes her head. "He's been trying to provoke me into a fight ever since, so he can get rid of me. Or maybe he thinks he can scare me off, so I'll leave him alone."

She won't be intimidated by him, of course. Kassandra knows her own strength, and she's pretty sure she can take Deimos in a fair fight.

"He's your brother, Kassandra!" Myrrine smiles fondly. "Remember the first time you held him? Our little baby Alexios? You were so proud of him."

"He didn't even want me to call him by his proper name, _mater_. He told me to call him Deimos." And damn it, that had _hurt_. She'd been missing her family for so long, and to find him again, only to face his rejection...

"He's just scared." Myrrine takes her hand. "Deep down inside he's terribly scared and that's why he keeps lashing out - so he won't appear vulnerable. It's all he knows, my poor lamb." She stifles a sob. "What have they done to him?"

Kassandra doesn't reply. Much as she wishes to be wrong, she worries that what the Cult has done to Alexios can't be undone, that he's too far gone for them to save him. But she can't bring herself to say it. She can't take her mother's last hope away.

* * *

The situation in Pylos is bad. Not quite hopeless, but Kassandra has never seen her fellow Spartans so dejected, so close to giving up. The troops are desperate for reinforcements, but the Athenians still have the upper hand at sea, and Kassandra fears the worst for the ships when they don't show up on time. Either way, they have no choice. The Athenians are eager to force a battle, now, while they're still on top of things, and there's no way to avoid it.

Brasidas has arrived ahead of her, and when they take her to see him, there's no time to greet him properly, no opportunity to embrace him a last time before they need to get ready. There's a distant look in his eyes that she understands only too well – a general can't afford to get distracted by romance when the lives of so many are in the balance. And yet, she wishes for just a moment in his arms, just a quick kiss, a few gentle words. It seems she's grown soft in those few weeks at home.

It's almost a relief when she can finally enter the fray and take out her frustration on the attacking Athenians. It's not much different from any other battle she's fought in, at least at first – messy and bloody, with no clue as to who is winning as soldiers on both sides meet the ferryman at pretty much the same rate. Kassandra pulls her weight, and then some, taking down three Athenian captains in quick succession and gaining a little breathing space for the Spartans, who are looking increasingly battered.

She's just beginning to feel the exertion when _something_ changes. The Athenians are no longer running from her, no longer looking scared. Instead, she can see a new-found determination on their faces, and from the direction of the Athenian camp, she feels a force advancing toward her. _Deimos_. It has to be him. She finally spots him in the distance, his twin blades mowing down enemies like grass, cutting through their armour as if it was made of gauzy silk. He's a fearsome sight to behold, all ruthless strength and unfettered power, with no thought except for killing, striking them all down, exterminating every last foe.

Kassandra holds her breath, ready to face her brother in combat, but before she can even raise her spear, she hears Brasidas' battle cry behind her. She turns, and there he is, rushing toward Deimos with no regard for his own safety. It's a powerful charge, and Brasidas is one of the strongest warriors she has ever known, skilled and experienced. And yet, Deimos barely raises an eyebrow as he swats him aside, like a bothersome fly. From the corner of her eye, Kassandra sees her beloved hit the ground, clutching his bleeding thigh, his face a mask of pain, and she sends a desperate prayer to every God that might hear her. _Please, please, don't let his wound be fatal._

But there's no time to check up on him, no time to worry, even, because now Deimos has spotted her, and a huge grin appears on his face. "Fucking finally!"

And for once, she can't disagree, because she's had enough, enough of his ceaseless attacks on the people she loves, enough of his callousness and cruelty. This fight is between him and her, and no one else should suffer for it.

"Alexios!" The surge of rage inside her chest feels like fire, hot and consuming. "If Brasidas dies-"

"What of it?" He shrugs, and once again, there's not even a glimmer of sanity in his eyes.

"Have you gone completely mad?" She forces herself to try talking to him, for Myrrine's sake, even though all she wants is to hit him, to wipe that smirk off his face. "It's not too late, Alexios. I don't want to kill you."

"My name is Deimos." Another grin, cold and heartless. "And if you want to save me the trouble of fighting you, you're welcome." He advances, swords in hand, eyes glittering with bloodlust.

"I don't want to kill you," she repeats, desperate to make him listen, even though she knows it's in vain. "But I _will_ stop you." It's enough. There's no way she can allow him to go on slaughtering innocents. There's simply no way to avoid this fight, not anymore.

Their blades meet and the power behind that first shattering blow of his is like nothing Kassandra has ever felt. It _hurts_ , and she has to draw on every last reserve of strength she possesses to hold her own against him. Deimos laughs, a feral sound with barely a shred of humanity left in it, and he presses on, but she won't give in. She can do it, she's stronger than him, she's more experienced, and she's faced overwhelming odds before.

Around them, the world is burning, quite literally. Someone has set fire to the forest, and the tall trees are turning into giant torches, lighting up the darkening sky. Can it be evening already? How long have they been fighting for? Kassandra has no idea which way the battle is going, whether the Fates have taken the Athenians' side this time, dooming Sparta to defeat. All she knows is that she has to win this fight, this desperate struggle against her own brother that tears her apart inside, even as she craves his downfall with every fibre of her being.

On and on they fight, trading blows like clockwork, both of them fighting for their lives. It's the hardest thing she's ever done, and yet, it's not as hopeless as it first seemed. For all his strength and skill, Deimos is only human, not the god he fancies himself to be, and when she focusses, Kassandra manages to land a series of debilitating blows, weakening his defences. He tries to laugh it off, but he has to take a few steps back, and there's her chance. Determined, Kassandra presses on, but just as she raises her spear, there's a crashing noise and a flaming oak tree comes down right between them, taking down her brother with it. She only has a fleeting moment to think - _So this is it? This is how it ends?_ – until a second, even larger tree tumbles down upon her, knocking her to the blood-soaked ground. There's a sudden flash of pain all across her neck and shoulders, and then silence. Silence and darkness.

* * *

She wakes up in a cell, with a murderous headache, and no idea of how she's got there. From the sound of the voices outside, she's in Athens – the accent is familiar. And _he_ is there, confirming her suspicion: Deimos, taunting her through the barred door, threatening to put her down like a dog. Kassandra forces herself to talk to him, to reply, to find a way to make him listen. Her head is still spinning, but even so, it's almost laughably easy to find the chinks in his armour, to make him doubt the Cult and his allegiance.

For once, he doesn't get mad about it. In fact, he's calmer than she's ever seen him, and Kassandra realizes with sudden clarity that he genuinely doesn't _know_ about his past. Of course he can't be expected to remember; he was only a babe, after all, but somehow she's always assumed that the Cultist must have told him _something_ about his family. And they have, in a way, they've fed him a steady diet of lies, and by Zeus, he's bitter, so very bitter. Was Myrrine right then? Is he just hurting, hurting so badly that he lashes out? And does it even matter, considering all the atrocities he's committed?

"Alexios. Please listen to me." Through the haze in her head, she tries to tell him, tries to convince him that they never abandoned him. And for a heartbeat, it seems he understands, it seems he can be swayed, but right then, Kleon turns up, shattering her hopes.

Alexios turns into Deimos again, aggressive and brutal, but some small part of Kassandra can't help but notice that he resents it, resents being a tool of the Cult, resents being told what to do. And maybe, just maybe, that will turn out to be his weakness, and her opportunity? Not today, though. He walks away, leaving her with Kleon, and Kleon has no reason to spare her. She barely listens to his boasting, relieved when he finally turns to go. He won't dirty his own hands by killing her, of course. He has _people_ for that kind of thing.

Whatever Kleon has planned for her, Kassandra has no intention of staying locked up, and even less of waiting quietly for her own execution. She isn't overly worried. With Deimos gone, none of them has the power to hold her for long. She's already making plans for an ambush on her guards when the realization hits her, out of the blue, and she can't explain why she hasn't thought of it earlier.

 _Brasidas_. Since she is a prisoner in Athens, the Athenians must have been victorious. Which means- She can't even finish the thought. Is he gone? Has Deimos killed him? The scenes from the battlefield flash across her inner eye – how bad was that injury? She can't tell, there's no way to be certain, and her training tells her to fear the worst.

And yet - if Brasidas was really dead and gone, Deimos and Kleon would have bragged about it, wouldn't they? Killing a foe of his calibre would be a feather in their cap, to be sure. Yet neither of them has mentioned his name, and Kassandra desperately struggles to cling to what little hope that fact offers. She has lost so much already. For a moment, the most vivid image of Phoebe's sweet little face appears before her, and she fights back a sob.

The noise of the guard's footsteps around the corner tears her out of her trance. No, she can't allow herself the luxury of grieving now, nor has she time to worry about Brasidas' well-being. That's for later, once she's regained her freedom and is on her way back home. Now, she needs to focus on her own survival, her own safety.

Just as she's always done.


	9. Chapter 9

Getting out of prison is the easy part. Getting home to Sparta, not so much. Sokrates and Aristophanes claim her attention with elaborate plans to discredit Kleon. Much as she'd prefer to leave Athens behind her as soon as possible, Kassandra has to admit they're right. The fight against Kleon needs to come first, and her own feelings must take second place, once again. At least it's good to be distracted as she waits for news from Sparta – the only news she cares about.

They are in the middle of dinner when the messenger arrives, and from the moment he opens his mouth, she can barely taste her food anymore. The conversation around her dulls to a low hum and all she can hear are his words, echoing over and over again in her mind. _Brasidas sends me. He's alive and well._ Kassandra closes her eyes, momentarily overcome with relief. She knows only too well that the gods are fickle and care little for the concerns of mortals, but right now she can't help but send a sincere thank you their way.

He's in Amphipolis, it appears, ready to defend the town against Kleon's advancing troops. Once again, they are going to do battle together, and it's a prospect she dreads and relishes in equal measure.

The journey seems endless, and when she finally arrives, the preparations for the battle are well underway, with Kleon's troops only a day's march away. It's been two years since Sparta had taken Athen's colony from them, two years under enemy rule for the citizens of Amphipolis.  And yet, when Kassandra makes her way through the city inquiring after Brasidas, she doesn't hear a bad word against him. He's well-liked here, it appears, and he has proven himself a wise leader and a just one. Which comes as no surprise, of course.

They point her to the city wall, and yes, there he is. She recognizes him easily, even from afar, the straight line of his back, the way he holds his head as he surveys his troops, proud and wary. But when he turns to walk toward her, she frowns. He's still walking with a noticeable limp, and there's a new scar on his upper thigh, red and angry. Deimos has left his mark, after all. _And he will pay for it!_

"Brasidas!" There are people around, watching them, so she has to put all her feelings into her voice, and hope he understands.

"Kassandra!" His eyes light up, but at the same time he seems oddly distant, and she tells herself it's because of the onlookers. "You're here. I was worried sick when you disappeared from the battle."

She nods, and Gods, it's a struggle not to run straight into his arms. Instead, she grasps his arm in a firm handshake, and even that brief moment of skin contact is enough to send a pleasant shiver down her spine. "They captured me while I was unconscious and took me to Athens. I woke up in one of Kleon's prison cells."

"But you escaped, didn't you? Why didn't you come back? " There's a world of emotion in those few words. "I thought-" Brasidas breaks off, and the look in his eyes …

Gods, she wants to kiss him so badly, she has to clench her hands into fists to stop herself. "I wanted to. Please believe me. But Sokrates and the others felt I should stay. Kleon-"

"Athenians and their intrigues." He is still mad; she can see it. Mad at her and mad at himself, in all probability. "You should have come back to Sparta."

"Maybe I should have. Still, now we have a chance to take out Kleon, once and for all. And anway…" She's tired of arguing. "Does it matter? I'm here now, at your side. Isn't that all that counts?" Kassandra reaches out, because she simply has to touch him, placing her hand on his arm, taking care to keep the gesture as inconspicuous as she can. "Isn't it?"

"It is." Brasidas has the grace to look chastened. "I'm sorry, Kassandra. I'm just… I'm so glad you're alive and well."

"Me, too. But what about you?" She nods towards his leg. "You're in pain."

He shrugs. "I've been through worse. My leg has had plenty of time to heal. And at least Deimos didn't get my battle arm."

Kassandra rolls her eyes at him. "So, you mean to tell me you intend to go out and fight tomorrow."

"Of course I will." There's a stubborn set to his mouth. "I'm a Spartan. We don't send our soldiers out alone to die. And as I said, I'm fine."

He's not. She can see the tension in his face every time he puts weight on his right leg, a barely perceptible tightening of the skin around his eyes. He's in pain, and he needs more rest. Yet, Kassandra knows perfectly well that nothing she can say will make him change his mind.

"Very well." She nods slowly. "Is there anything I can do to help? Any place in particular you want me to be during the battle?"

"No. You know how to handle yourself." There's nothing but genuine respect in his voice. "Wherever you choose to be, we will value your help." A flash of anguish crosses his expression, but he looks away so quickly no one but her would have noticed it. "Do you know if Deimos is with Kleon's troops?"

 _Shit_. He's afraid, and he's right to be. Anything else would be foolishness, and Brasidas is far from foolish.

"I can't be sure. But in all probability…" It pains her to be honest. "I think if he can possibly make it, he'll be there. Him and me, we have unfinished business."

"I see." Brasidas inhales sharply, and when he meets her eyes again, the silent plea for help in his gaze is unmistakable. "Kassandra, I need… Will you come to my tent tonight?"

"With pleasure." She tries to make her voice sound light, but this admission of his weakness hits her harder than she cares to admit. Sure, there's no one close enough to overhear them, but even so… Brasidas is a fiercely proud man, and for him to admit he doesn't want to be alone the night before this fight, is more than a little out of character. "I will be there."

"Good." It's the briefest of smiles he gives her, but it's so full of warmth and trust it makes her chest contract almost painfully.

Whatever else the gods are going to throw at her, there can be no doubt that Brasidas' love for her is real.

* * *

It's grown late by the time Brasidas turns in for the night, and Kassandra hasn't bothered to wait up for him, claiming his bedroll for a quick nap. The touch of his cool hands on her bare body tears her from her slumber, but she's only too happy to be awoken like this. She's missed him so much, missed the feel of his hard, lean body pressed up against hers, missed his scent and the sound of his voice.

He holds her tightly, barely leaving her enough space to move. "Kassandra. Finally."

A long, hungry kiss leaves her breathless, and suddenly his hands are _everywhere_ on her body, as if he wants to reclaim every last inch of her. He is trembling with need, and at the same time he's so gentle it makes her want to cry. No other man has ever treated her with such reverence, such deep and abiding respect; no other lover, male or female, has ever been so sweet and patient. Oh, he can be rough, when they're both in the mood, but tonight is not the time for unbridled passion. Tonight is about tenderness, closeness, love, and she can feel all of that in his touch and see it in his eyes. They barely speak until he's firmly lodged inside her, as close as he can possibly be.

When he starts to move, she sighs with pleasure, and he laughs softly. "My love. You are perfect." Instinctively, she tightens her legs around him, and he winces a little. "Careful."

"I'm sorry." She feels bad for getting carried away, but he brushes aside her protestations and kisses her again, kisses her as if he wants to steal the air from her lungs, drinking in her sighs like nectar.

"Don't be sorry. You feel so good." His eyes are feverish, and it's hard to say whether it's pain or desire that makes his lips tremble. "Gods, Kassandra. I've never wanted anyone the way I want you."

"Likewise." She smiles up at him, and then she allows herself to sink back into his arms, to leave it all to him and let him set the pace.

Brasidas moans, deep in his throat, and he pushes himself up higher on his arms. Marvellous arms they are, strong and powerful and there's definitely nothing wrong with _them_. He is picking up speed now, thrusting harder, and there's enough power behind his strokes to make her rethink her earlier concern. He may not be at the top of his form, but he is still a formidable warrior, still a match for anyone out there. _Almost anyone_.

Just then, he changes the angle a little, and all her capacity to think leaves her. Suddenly he feels even more perfect inside her than before, hitting the right spot with every move, and it feels so _good_! The rhythm he's set is merciless, swift and steady, and before she knows it, she feels a familiar tightening inside her. Instinctively, she puts both hands on the small of his back, and at the same time spreads her legs wider, pushing him deeper. Brasidas makes a rough, guttural noise, and once again, his lips find hers as he loses it, hips jerking hard against her.

And it's the kiss that does it, the familiar taste of him on her tongue, the way he pours all of himself into her, nothing held back, allowing her to let go completely and to simply melt into him with all of her being. Her climax is like nothing she's ever felt, no sudden rush of pleasure, but a warm, gentle flood, enveloping her completely in its embrace as the borders between their bodies blur and she becomes his, all his, only his.

"Brasidas." His name is all she can say as her voice returns, because everything else is just too much.

But he understands, and he nods softly, holding her in those amazing arms of his, embracing her tightly and yet with the utmost delicacy. "I love you so much."

Later, they share a quick meal, and they talk, because they both know perfectly well that there's little sleep to be found in the night before a battle. Brasidas is calmer now, not resigned, but there is a peace in his eyes that wasn't there before. They talk about this or that, sharing stories from their past and funny anecdotes from their travels.

"One day, I am going to take you up into the mountains, where you can see all of Sparta laid out beneath you. There is no more beautiful place in the world." Brasidas' eyes shine with pride and affection. "Maybe then you'll finally understand why I love our homeland so much."

She sighs, shaking her head. "Oh, Brasidas." Gently, she ruffles his thick hair. "I don't get it. You care so much about Sparta. Did you never consider that Sparta never cared half as much for you?"

She recalls Myrrine's last letter, warning her that there are intrigues being spun against him, against both of them. Brasidas is loyal to the core, an able general and an inspiring orator – Kassandra can attest to the latter, having listened to him talk to his soldier earlier today. Yet it's precisely those virtues that make him a target for jealousy and suspicion among his fellow Spartans.

"How can you be so sure that there will always be a home for you in Sparta?" She trails a hand down his chest. "How can you be sure that they will be as loyal to you as you are to them?"

"I can't be sure, any more than you do." Brasidas shrugs, catching her hand and breathing a quick kiss on her palm. "But that's not important. What matters is that _I_ keep my oaths, that my honour remains intact."  He sighs. "Honour the gods, honour Sparta. That's what my father taught me when I was a boy. That's all I've ever lived for. Until I met you."

"And now?" She raises a questioning eyebrow.

"Now I have something else to live for, apart from Sparta." His smile is a little crooked, and she realizes that this is a remarkable admission, coming from him. "But if we want to survive tomorrow, we'd better try and snatch at least a little sleep, don't you think?"

"You're right." Snuggling up against him, she sighs, inhaling his scent and relishing his warmth. There's only a few more hours to go until morning, and the gods alone know what awaits them then. But for now, she's safe and warm and happy.

Kassandra is asleep within moments, and she sleeps soundly until dawn.

* * *

Brasidas' battle plan works perfectly. They manage to surprise the Athenians, and their troops never quite recover from the initial shock. Kassandra hardly breaks a sweat as she works her way through the Athenian lines, taking out one after the other of their captains.

She laughs in sheer joy as she sees the Athenians scramble to retreat from her blows. Brasidas is right next to her, in the thick of things, and he is fighting like Achilles himself, with no sign of weakness, more gorgeous and irresistible than ever before. If she weren't so in love with him already, she'd fall for him today, because he's all power and grace, the perfect warrior.

They are pushing the Athenians back, further and further, but then, suddenly, there is a terrible moment of recognition. Just like at Pylos, there's a change in the air, and Kassandra knows it the moment it's happening. Deimos is here, just as they'd feared.

Instinctively she looks out for Brasidas, but he's no longer there, by her side. He has pressed on too hard, and she can just about make out the red crest of his helmet several steps ahead of her. He's headed straight for Deimos, of course he is, even though he should know better. Maybe it's the battle lust that's blinding him, or maybe he feels he needs to prove something, but either way, he seems determined to do the stupid thing. Kassandra curses under her breath and sets out to follow him, swatting Athenian soldiers aside as fast as she can.

By the time she catches up with him, the two of them are already fighting, their shields ringing as they trade blows. Brasidas is standing his ground this time, grimly resolved, but Kassandra _knows_ how strong her brother is, how fast, how deadly, and she knows her beloved can't possibly defeat this superhuman threat. She's getting close already, when Deimos' sword slips past Brasidas' defences, leaving a deep gash in his sword arm. Brasidas cries out in pain and rage, clutching his arm and dropping his shield to the ground. Kassandra's heart is gripped by an ice-cold fist.

Time slows down as she's racing toward them. It's like running through a swamp, her legs won't obey fast enough, and every single particle of her attention is focussed on Alexios, on _Deimos_. Deimos who is now grabbing Brasidas' spear and aiming for his head, his face set in a contemptuous snarl. And she's still too far away, she still can't do a thing as the spear comes down. She hears Brasidas scream, she sees him toppling to the ground, and Deimos is _grinning_ , grinning like a madman, raising the bloodied spear high above him in a triumphant gesture.

It's as if something tears inside her, a pain so brutal and visceral she can't breathe, can't cry. A heartbeat later she's face to face with Deimos – _too late!_ a voice inside her keeps screaming – and he's still smiling, that evil, soulless smile she's seen on his face so often.

"Ah, sister." Deimos' deep voice is dripping with mockery. "There you are. Now, now, no need to get agitated."

Kassandra doesn't reply. She's past words, past thinking. Everything inside her is screaming at her to kill him, to finally be done with him, Myrrine's pleas be damned. This is not her brother. This is a stone-cold monster, a creature of pure evil. With a feral yell, she charges toward Deimos, but before she can reach him, his eyes widen and his mouth opens in a silent scream. He drops to the ground, an arrow protruding from his back. And behind him, she can just about make out the retreating figure of Kleon, clutching a bow. _So the Cult has finally betrayed you, little brother. Told you so._

Speed is of the essence now, and she can't spare a moment to check whether Deimos is really gone, to see if anything can be done for Brasidas. Kleon is behind all this, and Kleon will pay. She hunts him down, all the way across the battlefield and down to the beach, and when she slices his throat, she takes a savage pleasure from the gurgling noises rising from his mouth. Never before has she allowed the bloodlust to take over like this. Never before has she been so close to losing her sanity.

When she returns to the battlefield, it's over. The Athenians have been beaten, and the Spartan soldiers are busy gathering their dead and looking after their wounded. Slowly, she makes her way toward the city, fearing what she'll find there. When she finally sees a familiar face, one of Brasidas' lieutenants, she stops him with a shout to inquire after his general.

"You haven't heard, _misthios_?" The man's expression tells her the truth before she hears the words from his lips. "We carried him back to the city and the healers did what they could, but his injuries were beyond their skills. The general is dead. He died a hero, but he's gone."

The world turns ashen, all colour drained from it. Voices and other sounds keep reaching her ears, but they are oddly muted, and her skin feels numb, as if she was frozen to the bone. The man stares at her, expecting her to reply. " _Misthios_?"

"I need to see him." Her voice barely obeys her, but she forces out the words. If he's gone, if he's really gone, she needs to see him, to touch him one more time, or she'll go mad.

He shakes his head. "You can't. They are preparing him for his funeral as we speak. The good people of Amphipolis are shattered by the loss, and they want to do what they can for him."

Kassandra listens without really understanding. They are going to give him a state funeral, it seems, and honour him as a founder of Amphipolis, hold games and sacrifices for him every year. He has saved them from the Athenians' fury, he has taken care of them and given his life for them, and the town's citizens won't forget that. Everyone is singing his praises; everyone is full of gratitude and many of the people she passes in the street are openly crying. Kassandra doesn't join them. She has no tears, and she can't be among people right now. Instead, she heads for the gates.

When night falls, the flames of his pyre light up the sky, smoke raising in thick columns. She watches from her vantage point in the hills, alone in the dark, because she can't go down there, can't face it, can't watch as others mourn him. None of them feel what she feels – that depth of despair, the painful end of all she's dared hope for. Kassandra watches until the fire has burnt down and there's nothing left to see.

She doesn't sleep that night. It's too cruel, to have found him again, to have all her hopes reawakened, only to have him taken from her again. And now all that remains is to avenge him. She vows, there and then, not to leave a single member of the Cult alive. She's going to send them all to the deepest level of Tartaros, to suffer eternal torture, to feel never-ending pain, just like she does. None of them will escape.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Kassandra doesn't return to the Adrestia. She can't bring herself to face Barnabas and Herodotus; their gentle words and fatherly concern are more than she can take right now. Instead, she takes the long way back, the land route through the forests of Malis, where she can be alone with her thoughts. She sleeps alone under the stars, avoiding human settlements and going for days without meeting anything but bears and wolves. The only time she makes an exception is when she comes across a huntresses' camp, hidden among the trees. The Daughters of Artemis can be relied on not to ask any questions; they, too, prefer the company of their animals to that of their fellow humans.

They are kind, though, in their own way. When Kassandra mentions missing Leonidas, one of the huntresses disappears for a few days and returns with a young lioness, barely grown, but fierce and proud. She snarls at all the others, but soon starts following Kassandra around and takes to sleeping next to her at night. Kassandra names her Penthesilea, and when she moves on, it's good to have that silent shadow following her, a fellow hunter, quiet and deadly.

When she finally arrives in Phokis, human voices have begun to sound strange to her ears, and she wants nothing more than to be left alone. Still, Kassandra has a mission to accomplish. There are still Cultists out there, and her work won't be done until they're all dead. She will have to go back among people, sooner or later, and she will have to talk to them to find clues.

A small village outside Kirrha seems like a good starting point. The villagers are friendly at first, and her drachmae are welcome enough at the local tavern. She has a cup of wine and some cheese, and the pretty girl who serves the food gives her a shy smile. It's almost pleasant, until she feels a heavy hand settle on her shoulder.

"Eh, _misthios_." The man's breath stinks of wine, and his skin is clammy with sweat. "We don't want your kind there. You're nothing but trouble."

"Indeed?" She raises an eyebrow at him. "And what makes you think so?"

"Common sense." He turns around to face his cronies. "Ain't that right, lads? Nothing good has ever come from having a woman take up arms and leave her rightful place in the kitchen."

"Is that right?" Kassandra feels the bile rise inside her. That drunken wretch has no doubt wasted the past few years slogging wine in this tavern, while she has been defending idiots like him all over the place from the ravages of war. "At least I don't spend my time bothering strangers. Now leave me alone."

She gives him a little shove, but it must have been harder than she'd planned, or maybe he is just unsteady on his feet from the wine. Either way, he ends up sprawling on the floor, squealing like a stuck pig. His friends are on their feet within moments, and then all hell breaks loose.

Kassandra just about makes it out without actually killing anyone, but she breaks a few noses, and when she reaches the safety of the forest, she finds, much to her surprise, blood dripping from her left arm. One of the _malákas_ must have had a knife. It's not a deep cut, but it hurts, and by Zeus, she doesn't need this kind of shit. With a heart-felt curse, she drops to the ground and hides her face in her hands.

"Kassandra? Is that you?" The voice is familiar, and so is the face accompanying it, warm brown eyes and a neatly trimmed beard, full soft lips turned up in a gentle smile.

It takes her a moment to put a name to the face, though. "Lykaon?"

"The very same." His smile turns brighter, and yes, she remembers it all now. It seems like a lifetime since she's last seen the healer, but she has fond memories of their last encounter. "Come along to my house." His tone is full of genuine sympathy. "Let me look after your wound."

"It's nothing." But she gets to her feet nevertheless, extending her hand to grasp his. "It's good to see you, Lykaon."

Penthesilea growls at him, but a look from Kassandra calms her and she slinks away into the shadows to wait for her mistress's return. Lykaon doesn't comment, though he keeps glancing nervously around as they approach his home.

His house is much as she remembers it, small and tidy, flooded with the warm light of the afternoon sun, the aroma of healing herbs wafting through every room. They don't talk much while he cleans the wound and ties a neat bandage around it, and Kassandra is glad. Silence is good, silence means peace.

When he finishes, he smiles at her, letting his hand rest on her arm just a tad longer than appropriate. "There. All fixed. Anything else I can do for you?" His voice has dropped at least an octave, and he's looking at her expectantly.

_Oh._ She shouldn't be surprised really. Of course he'd assume she'd be up for more. Last time, she'd practically thrown herself at him, and there'd been no reason to regret it. Kassandra closes her eyes as the memories come back. Such gentle hands he has, long fingers that know how to touch a woman, how to please her. A very nice body, too, surprisingly fit and strong for a healer, and yes, she remembers the pleasure she took from that body, remembers it as clear as day.

Lykaon waits patiently, unobtrusively, and gods, it would be so easy to say yes, to lose herself in his embrace and forget about her pain for a moment. But no, she can't go there. Not yet. "I'm sorry, Lykaon." Gently, she takes his hand and removes it, softening the rejection with a smile. "Things have changed. I have changed."

Thankfully, he doesn't seem offended. "I thought you seemed different. Do you want to talk about it?" She shakes her head, and he nods. "I didn't think so. But really…" Taking a step back, he gives her another smile, a friendly, professional one, devoid of any attempt at seduction. "Is there anything at all I can do for you? Do you need food? Provisions?"

"A proper meal would be nice." It really would. She can feed herself well enough on the road, but she's never been much of a cook. "A bed for the night. And any healing supplies you can spare."

"So you're headed into danger? Of course you are." He sighs, but there's no resentment in his tone, and she's glad. "Let me see what I can do."

They have dinner together, a simple but hearty meal, and afterwards he silently hands her a wooden cup filled with a milky white liquid. She accepts it without questioning, draining it to the last drop. That night, she sleeps deeply and peacefully, for the first time in weeks.

* * *

Now that she's taken the leap, it doesn't take her long to get back into her usual routine. There's plenty of work for a _misthios_ out there: carrying out small deliveries, taking out bandit camps, collecting the occasional bounty. She makes enough money to earn her keep, but she doesn't waste her time. Kassandra moves with single-minded focus, just one goal occupying her mind. One by one, she takes out the remaining Cultists, and with every successful kill, with every little bit of information she finds, she gets a little closer to finding the person behind it all, the elusive Ghost of Kosmos. The clues accumulate, and soon enough they all start to point in one direction.

Some part of her knows, even before the evidence becomes overwhelming. Indeed, it's as if she's always known, deep down inside, and when Kassandra finally has proof, she's not surprised at all.

_Aspasia_. She's the one, the spider at the centre of the web, pulling all the strings. And just like a spider, she's retreated to her lair now that she's threatened, but that's fine. It seems fitting to face her in Delphi, where it all began.

Aspasia is eloquent, coming up with all kind of reasons why she did what she did. But Kassandra doesn't want to hear any of it. This woman is responsible for all the deaths, all the sufferings, all the cruelties committed in the Cult's name. No matter what lofty aims she claims, she's nothing but a force of destruction. A liar, a murderer, a selfish monster, just like all of them.

Killing her feels good. It shouldn't, perhaps, but it does. And then it's all over, and Kassandra returns to her inn, feeling empty and aimless. The fight is won, the Cult is gone. Now what else remains for her to do?

A few days later, a messenger finds her, carrying a letter from Myrrine. _My lamb. I hope this letter finally finds you. I've missed you so much. Please come and meet me at Mount Taygetos as soon as you can make it. There is much left to do, and I have important news for you._

_Mount Taygetos_! Kassandra stares at the sheet of papyrus, unsure whether she's understood correctly. How does Myrrine know about the end of the Cult already – or does she? Is this just a coincidence? Why would Myrrine pick the mountain for their meeting – that place that holds so many painful memories for both of them? Why not their house, or the Tomb of Leonidas, or any other place in Sparta? Taygetos is really the last place she ever wants to return to. Her first impulse is to write back and say no, to tell her _mater_ to pick another time, another place. But then a thought strikes her, and Kassandra hesitates.

Maybe she needs to do it, maybe she needs to come full circle and face her past. Maybe it's the only way she'll ever find peace. And besides, Brasidas' voice is echoing in her thoughts, warm and full of love. _One day, I'm going to take you up into the mountains…_ He'd been so eager to show her, so full of pride and hope. If he wanted her to see the mountains, then she owes it to his memory to go see them, no matter how much it's going to hurt.

Her mind made up, she reaches for her quill, lips set in a determined line. _Yes._ It's time to go back.

* * *

The climb up Taygetos is steep, but the view is truly breathtaking. Snow-capped mountains throne majestically over lush green fields and dense forests, and in the distance the sea is a brilliant sapphire blue, too beautiful for words. And yes, she can see all of Sparta from here, laid out before her eyes like a colourful blanket, or the contents of a child's toy box.

Up here, it's easy to feel detached, high above all those tiny humans and their petty concerns. _Is this what being a god feels like?_ Kassandra wonders. How easy it must be, to judge over life and death, up here, where just a little shove over the edge of the cliff is enough to end a life. And suddenly, there's a metallic taste in her mouth, the taste of blood, of death. For all its serene beauty, Thanatos is all too present in this place, and not just because of her own history.

Myrrine arrives shortly after her, embracing her tightly. "Kassandra! It is so good to see you again." Taking back a step, she smiles up at her daughter. "There's so much I need to tell you. But first, we need to wait for your brother."

"My brother? Deimos?" Kassandra can't believe her ears. " _Mater_ , are you mad? Don't tell me you've invited him here as well."

"I sent for Alexios, too, yes." Myrrine's face is so full of hope that it cuts her to the bone. "He's alive, Kassandra. Somehow, he's survived Amphipolis. And now that the Cult has turned on him, I'm sure we can make him see. I'm sure-"

"What are you sure about?" And there he is. Her brother, looking none the worse for wear despite an injury that would have killed everyone else. He's looking well, in fact, fit and strong, well-groomed and rested. _Well. Good for him_. She can taste the bitterness on her tongue.

A low growl in the bushes behind her tells Kassandra that her lions are there, and they feel her pain and rage. They are ready to come to her help. Penthesilea is fully grown now, battle-hardened and strong, and Kassandra has picked up Leonidas on her way to Sparta. With the two of them at her back, Alexios won't stand a chance in a fight. Still, he shows no sign of attacking, not yet, and she signals for them to stay back.

"Well?" Alexios' voice is rough and hoarse, his lips turned up in a sneer as he faces his mother for the first time since he was an infant. "Don't get your hopes up, woman. I'm not as easily manipulated as my dear sister."

Try as she might, Kassandra can't suppress a snort. "That's rich, coming from the Cult's favourite plaything."

"I wasn't their _plaything_. Never!" Alexios raises himself to his full height, glaring at her, but his eyes are clear and sane, and for once, he seems to have some sort of control over himself.

Kassandra is almost impressed. And maybe he's even right. The Cult definitely bit off more than they could chew when they made him their champion. But either way, it doesn't matter. "I don't care." Defiantly, she raises her chin and glares back. "I don't care if you did their bidding, or if you came up with all of it by yourself. All I know is you're a stone-cold killer."

"So I am, yes." He has the nerve to grin at her. "Whereas _you_ are a just harmless little kitten, aren't you, sister?" His voice is dripping with irony. "Tell me, how many have you slain? You don't think you might have me beaten?"

He has a point, but Kassandra is too furious to admit it. "Don't you dare compare yourself to me! Don't you fucking dare!" She's trembling all over.

"He's your brother, Kassandra. Can't you forgive him? For the sake of our family?" Myrrine places a tentative hand on her arm.

Kassandra shakes her head, unable to speak. Maybe before Amphipolis, she could have done it. But not now. Not anymore.

"Please, lamb." Myrrine’s desperate tone could melt stone. "There's something I need to tell you, Kassandra, something you need to know. He-"

Alexios' bitter laugh interrupts her before she can finish. "Stop begging, woman. You cared little enough about our _family_ when you abandoned me."

"I never abandoned you! I would never have given up on you. But…" Now Myrrine is shaking, too, close to tears.

"I told you I don't want to hear your stories." Alexios shakes his head. "I don't need you, either of you. I am the Chosen One, and I'm going to take my rightful place."

"See? I told you, _mater_." Kassandra closes her eyes, suddenly exhausted beyond measure. "They have poisoned his mind. Nothing you say will convince him."

"I've heard enough. You better get out of my way, _sister_ , before I make you." As Deimos reaches for his sword, Kassandra opens her mouth to try once more to appeal to his better nature, but then she thinks better of it.

Whatever she says, he won't listen. Even Aspasia said he was impossible to control, and she was a master manipulator. There's no way _Kassandra_ can sway him, and even if she could, how can she possibly do what her _mater_ is asking? How can she forgive him for killing the only man she's ever cared about? She can still see it, in her mind's eye, the way he just disposed of Brasidas, as if he didn't mean a thing; just one more of all the nameless unlucky souls he's sent to the ferryman.

No, this isn't her brother, not anymore, and yet… she can't kill him. She can't make her mother watch as she kills her own flesh and blood. Kassandra is tired of death, tired of killing, so very, very tired of it all. And so she makes a decision, even as she grabs her spear.

When he twirls around, sword drawn and pointed at her throat, she makes no move to defend herself. Deimos' eyes widen in surprise and then his jaw drops as he sees what she's offering to him: the spear, Leonidas' spear. Her birthright, but if that's what it takes, she's willing to give it up. And if he kills her anyway, then so be it. She's not going to leave this world with her brother's blood on her hands. When she meets Brasidas again on the other side, she won't carry that weight on her conscience. It's an oddly comforting thought, as she closes her eyes and waits for the fatal blow.

It never comes. The silence grows longer and heavier, and when she finally looks up, Alexios is down on his knees before her, crying. His sword lies forgotten on the ground, and he hasn't touched the spear. His gaze is firmly fixed on Myrrine, and he looks so young, all of a sudden, not like an invincible demigod at all. "I've done terrible things, _mater_."

"We all have." Myrrine's face is wet with tears, as she embraces her son, cradling his head to her bosom. "But now it's over. Now we're a family again and everything's going to be fine."

Kassandra is glad to see her _mater_ so happy; she truly is. And yet, she wonders – how easy it is for Myrrine to forgive all he's done. How easy to forget all the horrors and focus on the future. She can't find it in herself to feel the same.

"My son." Tenderly, Myrrine ruffles Alexios' hair. "There's so much we need to talk about. But before we do…" She turns to face Kassandra. "I am sure you have many things you'd like to take up with your brother. But Brasidas' death isn't one of them."

"What do you mean, _mater_? I was there. I saw it." Her voice nearly fails her.

"It isn't," Myrrine repeats. "I know this may be a lot to take in, lamb, but Brasidas… he's alive."

" _What_?" She feels tears rise to her eyes, and a sudden surge of wild hope, but it hurts, by Zeus, it hurts, because surely this is all some cruel trick. "I saw him burn, _mater_. I _know_ he's gone."

"No, you don't." Myrrine looks almost smug. "The body on the pyre wasn't Brasidas'. He was badly wounded, true, and the healers they brought in declared him beyond their help. That's when we realized we had a unique opportunity."

"An opportunity to do what? And who is _we_?" Kassandra can't believe her ears.

"To fake his death and spirit him away, of course." Myrrine shakes her head. "One of my contacts in Amphipolis is a proper physician, and he tended to Brasidas' injuries while they held a state funeral for some poor unknown soul."

"So he's really alive?" Kassandra _wants_ to believe, but it's all a bit much.

"Yes, he is, my lamb. Alive and well." Myrrine nods. "It was by far the best solution. Brasidas was getting far too popular with the troops, and some people were getting jealous. Lysander had been agitating against him for months." At the mention of Lysander's name, she wrinkles her nose, as if she'd smelled something bad. "Unfortunately, that _malákas_ has Archidamos' ear, for the time being, but my associates and I got Brasidas to safety before it was too late."

"Where is he?" Kassandra doesn't need more details. "I need to see him."

"Of course you do." Myrrine's smile is full of warmth. "He's in the same place where I found refuge many years ago, with my old friend Timo. And from what I hear, he is doing a very good job there. There's a new Phoenix on Naxos, my lamb, reborn from the ashes of his old life, just as I once was." Myrrine grasps both her hands, smiling. "And I think he misses you."

" _Mater_!" She feels tears trailing down her cheeks. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? How could you let me spend months thinking-"

"It was safer." Myrrine sounds perfectly reasonable. "This is not the kind of information that you can entrust to a letter. I had to tell you myself."

"But couldn't you at least have given me some sort of clue?" Some part of her is genuinely annoyed, but she is too happy to keep it up. More than happy. Overjoyed, blissful, ecstatic. There are no words for what she's feeling. "I need to leave immediately."

"Certainly." Myrrine's tone is completely matter-of-fact, almost businesslike. "The Adrestia is in harbour at Gytheion, waiting for you. With a good wind, it should be a swift journey."

"But… Will you be safe, _mater_?" She forces herself not to look at Alexios as she says the words, but Myrrine understands her well enough.

"I can handle myself." The determined set of Myrrine's lips cuts off any further discussion. "Besides, Nikolaos is back, too, and so is Stentor. Alexios is going to meet the whole family, as soon as we are back in town."

_Well, that ought to be interesting_. Kassandra suppresses a grin. Alexios has kept quiet, and he still can't meet her eyes, but that's fine. She doesn't care; they can sort it out later. Maybe Myrrine is right, maybe they really can all be a family again one day, but not now.

Now she has more important things to do.

 


	11. Chapter 11

There's nothing to stop her from sailing straight into the harbour – indeed, there's little doubt that the residents of Naxos would welcome her enthusiastically. A banquet, at the very least, sacrifices at the temple of Dionysos, wine and laughter and good cheer. Maybe even a parade. Yet, as they approach the island, Kassandra realizes that she wants none of that.

Instead, she has Barnabas drop anchor in a little bay, near Pirate Beach, and she makes her own way into the town, unseen, hidden in the shadows. She spends some time in a tiny tavern, at a quiet table in the corner where no one notices her and listens to the patrons' gossip. The new Phoenix is well-liked, it seems, but few among the islanders have ever seen his face. He's in the habit of wearing a hood in public, they say, and rumours are swirling as to why. Some claim he's horribly disfigured, others say he has magical powers and looking at him will turn people into stone. _Yeah, right._ Kassandra just barely refrains from snorting. Still, there's no harm in a little mystery, if it will help keep him safe.

When she reaches Chora, she sends Ikaros to scout out the leader house, a pleasant villa situated on a hill not far from the temple. It is reasonably well guarded, but she has no trouble finding a possible way in. Judging from the guard rotations and the layout of the house, Brasidas' room should be on the uppermost floor. There's a bed set up on the flat rooftop, and it's a balmy night, so she guesses that's where he'll sleep.

Once night falls, she scales the back wall, then waits for the guard to pass before sneaking across a terrace and up unto the balcony of a lower side building. A well-timed jump takes her across the yard to the walls of the main house. From there, it's a walk in the park: along ledges, up a trellis, ducking out of sight of yet another guard. When she pulls herself up to the roof, she's glad to find that she was right.

Brasidas is alone, and he's asleep. Quietly, she creeps closer, making sure not to wake him, not yet. She needs to look at him first, make sure it's really him.

At first, she barely recognizes him. The right side of his face, where Alexios hit him with his spear, is deeply scarred, his eye sewed shut. It doesn't actually look too bad – clearly, the healer knew what he was doing, but Kassandra shivers at the thought of how he much he must have suffered. Otherwise, the biggest change is the lack of beard. Brasidas is clean-shaven now, and it makes him look younger and more vulnerable than before. Less like a Spartan general, though it's still a noble face, no matter how it's changed.

His body, however, is just as she remembers it, except for a few new scars, and she feasts her eyes on him. She's quite sure he's naked underneath the thin linen sheet, and it's abundantly clear that he's still strong, still gorgeous. That look of barely contained power is what attracted her to him in the first place, and by Zeus, she's missed his body so much! And suddenly, she can't wait any longer. Gently, she places a hand on his shoulder and whispers his name.

He is awake at once, sitting up and reaching for the dagger on his nightstand, his mouth opening to scream for the guards. But when he sees her, he goes still, like a statue. "Kassandra. Is this a dream?"

"Not a dream, no." She bends down to kiss his ravaged cheek. "But you really need better guards."

"I guess I do." Pushing her back, he averts his face, reaching for a black leather eyepatch.

"Don't." She grabs his wrist. "I don't mind." Why would she? This is Brasidas, and none of his injuries matter as long as he's alive.

"But I do." His teeth are clenched so hard she can see the tension in his jaw. Clearly, this has affected him more than she'd expected. "Just let me-"

Kassandra makes a small shushing noise and lets go of his wrist. "All right."

With practised movements, he puts the patch in place, then turns to face her. "That's better." There's a faint tremor in his voice. "I'm sorry, Kassandra. I wish-"

"So do I." She shrugs. "But hey, it is what it is. And you've got nothing to be sorry for. You know, in a way, I like it. It looks dashing. Like a pirate."

He snorts derisively, but he has relaxed a tiny bit, and Kassandra decides to take that as a good sign.

"It makes you a lot harder to recognize," she points out. "Especially with the beard gone as well."

"Yeah, well." He thoughtfully strokes his smooth chin. "I tried growing one again, but my skin was too badly scarred. I looked like a mangy dog." The ghost of a smile dances over his lips, and that makes her happier than she can say.

"Do your injuries give you any trouble? Are you in pain?" Kassandra keeps her tone brisk and business-like, and that seems to be the right choice.

"No." Brasidas shakes his head. "The healers did an impressive job. They couldn't save my eye, though."

"They saved you." Suddenly her throat feels far too tight again. "I just wish I'd known. All these months I thought you were gone." She swallows. "I know my _mater_ saved your live and I ought to be grateful, but I-"

"Myrrine is a lovely and amazing woman, but she can be a tad high-handed." He sighs. "You know, when they took me away from Amphipolis… I don't know whether I would have agreed with their plan, if they'd asked me. This…" He indicates the eyepatch. "This is not what I'd planned for my retirement."

"You never planned for it at all," Kassandra points out. "I bet you always thought you'd go out in a blaze of glory. But hey, in a way, you did. Brasidas of Sparta died a hero."

"Or so everyone thinks." He laughs, but there's still a hint of bitterness there. "I still can't believe they managed to pull this off. Apparently, they found a body with similar wounds, wrapped it up neatly and passed it off as mine. Whereas I was hidden away in a villa on the outskirts of the city until they pronounced me well enough to travel."

"And now you're here, and you're safe." She takes both his hands in hers, pressing them hard.

"I am." And now it's a full smile on his lips. "But being safe isn't enough. I was lonely without you."

"Were you?" She leans in for a kiss. "Well, I have a few ideas on how to make you feel better."

This time he doesn't shy away from her. This time, he kisses her back, and by the Gods, it's so wonderful to feel him again, to taste him again, that she can't help the tiny sob escaping her throat.

"Hey." With his thumb, he traces a single tear down her cheek. "Did you really miss me so much? A big strong hero like you?"

It's an attempt at levity, but she refuses to be distracted. "More than life itself." Her throat feels rough and scratchy. "Hold me. Just hold me, please."

"Don't worry." His voice hasn't changed at all. It's still deep and smooth, and it still makes her tremble deep down inside. "I don't plan on letting go of you again. Never."

The next kiss is deeper, more demanding, and her body responds with an urgency that takes her breath away. By Aphrodite, she's starved for his touch, hungry for his lips, every inch of her skin crying out for his caresses. She, too, has been lonely without him, and only now can she allow herself to feel it.

He helps her with her leathers, taking them off piece by piece, patient and thorough. When she's finally naked, completely and utterly bare before him, he inhales sharply, staring at her with undisguised adoration.

"Kassandra. Gods, I-" He swallows hard. "I want you so badly." He's trembling with desire, but he doesn't touch her, not yet, and her skin physically _aches_ with longing.

"I'm yours." Taking his hands, she places them on her breasts, and Gods, it's such a sweet relief! His palms fit perfectly, cupping them with exquisite gentleness, while his thumbs tease her nipples to full hardness. "I'm all yours. Please, Brasidas, just-"

He must have heard the urgency in her voice, because he bends down to suck one nipple between his lips, and it's glorious. The soft scrape of his teeth, the gentle suction, the warmth of his mouth… Instinctively, Kassandra arches into his embrace, and his arms are there, holding her firmly in place. In all her life, she has never needed a man to protect her, but with him, she feels safe and warm in a way that goes far beyond the physical. With him, she feels at home.

Pulling her closer, he arranges her in his lap, with both her legs wrapped around his waist, and she can feel him against her core, hot and hard. And she's ready for him, eager to have him, but of course he's taking his own sweet time kissing and caressing her. His hands appear to be everywhere at once, teasing and soothing her in turns, while his hot mouth is on her neck, whispering breathless challenges in her ear.

She _whines_ , rubbing herself shamelessly against him, but she's so wet already that there's simply not enough friction, and she wants _more_. He gasps, and his hands tighten on her hips in an effort to keep her still, but she can't have that, not now. "Brasidas, _please_!"

"Why the rush?" He's still trying to tease her, still trying to draw it out, but his breath is coming in quick, hard gasps now, and she knows he wants it just as much as she does.

Kassandra doesn't bother to reply, just rolls her eyes at him, and spreads her legs further, lifting herself up just a little to position herself perfectly. And he finally gives in, lying back and pushing her down on his cock in one smooth move. She cries out, because what else can she do, with the sudden sweet shock of him filling her, so perfectly, as if he was made for her pleasure alone. And she cries out again when he thrusts up, burying himself even deeper inside her, so deep that it shakes her to the core, so deep he becomes part of her.

"My goddess." His hands have found her breasts again, and his gaze is firmly locked on her face, drinking in the sight of her. "You are-"

She tightens around him, as hard as she can, and words fail him as he bucks up below her again. And that feels good, so good that she can't resist repeating the move, again and again until they are both covered in sweat, clinging tightly to each other, both of them panting hard. Not for the first time she marvels at how perfectly their bodies fit together, how they seem to be able to find their own language, all skin and slick and heat.

 At some point, Brasidas manages to sit up, digging his heels deep into the mattress to give himself better leverage, both hands keeping a tight hold on her hips. For all that she's on top, he remains in charge, he's the one who controls the tempo and the rhythm of their coupling, allowing him to draw it out as long as he wishes to.

The first time Kassandra comes, it's a mere release of tension, a sudden, sharp relief, barely registering as pleasure at all. Brasidas' hands tighten on her hips for a heartbeat, but he doesn't stop, doesn't even slow down. And when she feels her arousal build up again, it's different, far more intense, a low buzz echoing through every cell in her body. She knows it's going to be overwhelming, she's almost a little scared of the power she feels building in her, but this is Brasidas, and he knows her better than she knows herself.

"Let go." His voice is a soft, soothing whisper in her ear. "I've got you."

It's all the encouragement Kassandra needs. Clinging tight to his shoulders, she allows it to happen, allows the wild, teeming rush of ecstasy to claim her whole body, obliterating all thought and consciousness as it surges through her. For a brief, exhilarating moment, she _soars_ , rising high into the sun, like Ikaros, free and unencumbered, leaving the weight of existence behind.

And yet, she remains firmly anchored by Brasidas' touch, his warmth, his love. He's still holding her tight when she returns to earth, but at some point, he, too, must have found his release, because he's smiling and looking as relaxed and happy as she feels. She's embarrassed to have missed it, being so wrapped up in her own euphoria, but he doesn't seem to mind. He's content to just stay there, with his arms wrapped around her, cradling her head to his chest, while they both bask in the afterglow.

When he finally speaks, his voice is a low, soft rumble in her ear. "So… what are your plans?" He runs a gentle hand down her back, but it's a lazy caress, with no heat behind it. "Are you going to make your home here on the island, with me?"

It's tempting, oh so tempting to say yes, but Kassandra shakes her head. "I can't stay more than a few days at a time, I think. It's too risky. The Cult may be gone, but we still have enemies. And if I spend all my time here, someone might put two and two together and recognize you after all."

Brasidas nods, but he looks disappointed, and she can't have that. "I'll come to see you often, don't worry. It will give me a chance to check up on your guards." That puts a smile on his face, and yes, that's better. "Trust me, it's better this way. I need a bit of adventure now and then, you know."

"I know you do." And that's what she loves best about him. He's never tried to change her, much as he himself might hope for something else. He knows he has her heart, and that's enough for him. "Promise to make time for me between your quests?"

"Always." Taking his hand, she squeezes it tightly. "I swear."

"I'll hold you to that." Breathing a kiss on her hair, he sighs again. "Sleep now."

She falls asleep in his arms and when she wakes up in the morning, he's there to kiss her and to make love to her again. After all their struggles, they've been granted this: time together, time to love each other. It's the most precious gift the Gods have ever given her.

* * *

Kassandra is true to her word. Whenever she can make it, the Adrestia takes a little detour to Naxos, and whenever the island comes in sight, her heart sings with happiness. With every visit, their bond grows stronger, with every separation, the longing increases, but she knows he'll be there, waiting for her, and that makes it all worthwhile.

She still worries about Brasidas' safety, though, so on one of her next visits, she brings him a gift.

"A lion? Have you gone completely mad?" Brasidas eyes the animal with considerable distrust. "I'm going to be the first of his victims."

The cub, from Penthesilea's first litter, is still fairly cuddly, but he has teeth and claws to show he's no harmless pet. Kassandra laughs. "I will show you how to tame him, don't worry."

"If you say so." Brasidas still pretends to grumble, but when the cub takes a playful swipe at him, he laughs in delight, and Kassandra knows they are going to get on splendidly. "All right. What shall we call him?"

"Your choice." Kassandra leans back, her arms crossed, and watches them tussle. "I'd go with Phylax."

"A guardian?" Brasidas' brow flies up, and she almost expects him to protest – after all, she knows from their regular sparring sessions that he's still a force to be reckoned with, still able to defend himself perfectly well. But he just nods quietly. "Seems fitting. I'm sure he'll take good care of me."

"He'll guard you with his life. No harm will come to you while he's with you."  Their eyes meet, and Kassandra swallows hard.

He knows. They both know that, even with the extra time they've been given, even with all the precautions she can take, one day he will be gone, and she will live on. The Staff of Hermes Trismegistus will grant her eternal life, or so Pythagoras claimed, but she won't be able to take anyone with her. Eventually, she will have to say good-bye to her beloved. Not yet, though. Not tonight.

Dropping to her knees next to him, she pushes the lion to the side so she can kiss him. "I love you so much."

"And I love you, my goddess. I'm yours." He kisses her back. "Always."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Huggles and thanks to my lovely beta suilven.


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